


cold heart, cold hands

by theadamantdaughter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AdamantDaughter as Katara, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Honxrable as Zuko, Roleplay, Zutara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:58:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 77
Words: 309,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theadamantdaughter/pseuds/theadamantdaughter
Summary: To solidify peace and honor a treaty, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, heir to the world's most powerful throne, takes a prince from the Fire Nation as her husband. (role play thread)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, we're basic and honxrable and I are doing it again (I also used a similar title to a fic I'm working on, but these are not related or similar in any way aside from the arranged marriage aspect).
> 
> This is an extensive role-play thread between myself and honxrable on tumblr. I'm posting it here for the convenience of my followers who read the threads, but miss sections due to work and other real life commitments. It will stay in the thread form, as it is on tumblr. Sorry if you don't like it... but this isn't a fic, it's a thread. I also will do minimal spelling edits, but everything else remains untouched. Updates will come as I 'cut' the threads for length on tumblr.
> 
> And, if you want to read there: theadamantdaughter.tumblr.com

The Southern Tribe was harsh and strong: a band of fierce warriors, a harem of proud women. Time and time again, they fended off the Fire Nation. Time and time again, they sunk ships, killed dragons, frozen the firebreathers in their tracks. They were fighters, survivors, conquerors.

And there was her: The Cold One, Princess of Ice, Daughter of Water. They had endless names for her and Katara embraced it, taking on every single one and wearing them all as armor. 

Cold. Ice. Daughter… Healer. Bloodbender. Master.  _Future Queen._

Katara hated that last title. She tried to fight it, but her father was insistent. She had a duty; she had a purpose. She owed it to her people to bear the burden. It wasn’t that she lacked the talent for it. She was an adept politician. She voiced what she wanted, what her people wanted. She fought for them, with bending and words alike. 

No, the issue was this—

_ Katara, the first and only daughter of Hakoda and Kya, Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, is hereby promised to Zuko, the first and only son of Ozai and Ursa, Prince of the Fire Nation. _

The treaty had been signed and adopted only one month prior. It ended a war. It saved the world. But, it damned her.  

Katara stood on the snow-covered docks, surreptitiously bending the flakes into a crystalline crown to adorn her head. The steel ship was approaching the bay; the waterbenders she’d trained herself had let it past the South’s wall. She almost felt betrayed. 

How dare they let this man come here? How dare they grant passage to the Prince of Destruction?

She watched the ship grow closer, imagined her soon-to-be husband somewhere below the deck. Katara grit her teeth, and fought the urge to drown him.

* * *

It had been ten years since the end of the war. His uncle had rattled the world by ending the war once he assumed the throne. However, things did not transition smoothly. The world was still _furious_ at the Fire Nation for starting the war. They hadn’t forgiven the decades of atrocity that descended upon them, including the genocide of the Air Nomadic peoples. There were guerilla attacks against the Fire Nation. Other countries would raid the cities, murder men, rape women, and kidnap children in the name of revenge. They’d ransack their things, burn their crops, hold them hostage, and ran rampant through the streets. Fire Lord Iroh knew that he had to come to some agreement to cease these horrid acts and get the world in harmony again. 

With the approval of old, Avatar Aang and a mutual agreement between councils internationally, Fire Lord Iroh reached an agreement. They would exchange heirs and mix bloodlines between nations. Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, was being sent to the Fire Nation to wed his son, Lu Ten. Princess Azula, Zuko’s sister, was being sent to wed the son of Earth King Kuei, and he, Prince Zuko, was being sent to the Southern Water Tribe to wed Princess Katara. 

He couldn’t have been more terrified. He begged his uncle, who was a gentle and loving man, who’d taken him in as his own, not to send him there. His uncle insisted that he would be fine. He promised kindness from the people of the Water Tribe, but Zuko wasn’t so sure. They loathed the Fire Nation, and from what Zuko had learned, with good reason. Once his uncle had assumed the throne, Zuko had mellowed under his uncle’s parenting. He’d once believed the harsh words of his father and the lies of the Fire Nation. But since, Zuko had gone on mission work alongside his uncle, seeing the impoverishment in the Fire Nation, and going to the Earth Kingdom where he saw the fields his uncle once bloodied before Iroh was shaken from it when he lost his wife in the war. 

Zuko felt like he was a thing. Lu Ten was being brought his _thing_ , and Zuko was being sent as the _thing_. He didn’t want to go to this strange, cold place he’d never seen. He wanted to stay beside his uncle and his cousin. He barely had the appropriate clothes. He was given a red robe jacket, and from the horror stories of the South Pole, he knew he’d need more. 

It had been months on that ship, but Zuko would rather stay on the ship than unload from it to face his bride-to-be. He wondered what she’d be like? All he knew was that her name was Katara and she was the princess, and that was was twenty-one-years-old. He didn’t know a thing else about her. She likely didn’t know a thing else about him. She’d be in for quite the disappointment, he was sure. 

Zuko’s heart was racing as he saw land, and he was shaking from nerves and the cold. It was snowing, and he pulled the jacket closer, but it was still too thin. They pulled up along the icy dock, and tied the ship to the harbor’s post. Zuko was freezing below deck, and his shipmates had to haul him up. His stomach was in knots. He wanted to make his uncle proud. His uncle was the only reason he was alive. His father wanted to leave him for dead as infection built in his burn wound, but Iroh returned just in time to have Zuko properly taken to the infirmary, and he imprisoned Zuko’s father. 

His uncle told him to be cordial, represent the Fire Nation well, show your intelligence, but concede to them because the Fire Nation are the ones in the wrong. So Zuko tried to do just that as he walked off the creaky ship. He tried to hide how cold he was, but he was trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

He saw a man who must’ve been the chief– Chief Hakoda. That would be his father-in-law, and the man he answered to. Zuko bowed respectfully to him. “Ch-Chief Hakoda,” Zuko greeted with chattering teeth. He was used to the tropical climate, not the tundra. “I– I am honored to meet you,” Zuko spoke, bowing to him, and Hakoda bowed back, introducing himself before gesturing forward. 

That must’ve been her– his fiancée. Zuko’s breath caught, and his eyes widened, and he hoped he could blame his red cheeks on the cold. She was breathtakingly gorgeous. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful woman. He hoped Jin and Mai would forgive him for that. Mai wouldn’t; Jin might. 

Zuko swallowed thickly, now certain he’d never measure up. He was supposed to be a gift to her, or so the Fire Nation council put it. If he was the gift, than she was going to be disappointed. He couldn’t hold a candle to her. She was so lovely. He wondered if her personality was just as so. Nevertheless, he hadn’t looks nor a pleasant personality, so he had no room to criticize either way. 

Zuko bowed to her on one knee, and took her hand, kissing it nervously as he held it in his own, quivering one. “Princess K-Katara… I am tr-truly humbled to meet you.”

* * *

“Zuko… Prince of the Fire Nation,” Katara said his title, her voice firm and proud. Inside she was trembling, but she wouldn’t let it show. He kissed her hand and her eyes raked over him. 

A two-pronged crown adorned his head; the ends of raven hair tickled his shoulders. He had bright golden eyes, sharp cheekbones, an aristocratic nose. His body was muscular, but not so much as to be unattractive. He was beautiful, truly, except for an old scar that ruined half his face. 

Katara wondered at the tragedy, at how his eyes could still be so kind and soft, how his lips weren’t flat with bitterness. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. She had her own wounds that he’d come to see— perfection was boring anyway. 

She curtsied, “You honor me, my lord,” When she straightened, Katara let go of Zuko’s hand and removed her gloves. “Take these, please? Until I have the chance to find you a man’s pair?”

She extended the fur-lined leather to him, smiling in hopes that he’d feel welcome. She excelled at this, at the part of savvy politician, benevolent princess. Zuko took the gloves, after a moment of hesitation, and her smile broadened.

“I’ll see that you’re given proper clothing,” Katara said. “For now, with as little time as we have before the feast, I’m afraid all I can offer are these too-small gloves and a cloak from a guard.” 

She wagged her fingers at one of the warriors, who offered the fur up without blinking. “You’ll just have to trust me that it’s much warmer in the palace.”

* * *

Zuko waited for some signal of hers to get off his knee. The sages he was sent to told him of that. The South was very mindful of respecting royalty, and Zuko was the token to Katara, not vise versa. He was the Fire Nation’s apology. He was there as a humble servant. It felt humiliating, but the sages twisted it to be seen as a duty for the Fire Nation and the world. He was helping restore harmony. His uncle agreed. 

He looked up at her when she offered him the wooly gloves, and she was even prettier up close, making him flush red once more. He was touched by her simple gesture, and exhaled in relief for at least she was _kind_. His deepest fear was that she’d be cruel or cold, and then he worried she’d  be distant. He hoped at least some friendship could come of this partnership they’d shared. Zuko wondered too if Katara entered this by pressure or choice. After all, following the death of her brother, she was the sole heir to the throne of the world’s most powerful country.

“Thank you, your highness,” Zuko spoke, nodding his head in gratitude before standing. He was still shivering, but at least his hands were warm. He smiled genuinely at how fuzzy and cozy his hands felt in the little pockets of wool. He looked shocked, however, when Katara turned to a guard, and asked him to remove his coat. 

“No, he– he doesn’t have to. I’m all right. I appreciate your generosity, but I don’t want to take the man’s co–” Zuko rambled, but the cloak was in his hands already, and Zuko glanced at the guard apologetically. 

He quickly turned his attention back to the princess, and gave her a smile. “Thank you, your highness,” Zuko replied, bowing to her. He smirked at her teasing words, “I certainly hope so. It may take me a little while to get used to such cold. I’ve never even seen so much snow until now. I only saw flurries in Ba Sing Se when I was a teenager. It’s… It’s beautiful. Your country is beautiful,” Zuko spoke timidly, praying his words weren’t too far out of line.

* * *

Pride spread across her face. Katara smiled at him. “The ice and the snow are a large part of our strength,” she replied, “but I must credit my country’s people for our beauty. We have fought long and hard to be what we are.” 

She nodded graciously, then reached for him. The spectacle on the docks was nearly complete; the Water Tribe had seen him, witnessed this greeting, and his ship’s crew was spilling down the gangway, bringing his belongings from home. She could lead him inside now, show him his new home.

“Come with me, my Prince.” Katara took his hands in hers and pulled him up. Her father was watching her, so she kept her face a perfect mask of kindness and ease. Inside she was reeling… over the impending marriage, the impending life she’d have with the Fire Nation’s offering. 

That’s all he was; Zuko didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want _her._  

Katara almost felt for him— being dragged from his country to what he must think of as a frozen wasteland, being forced to marry what he must think of as a savage’s barbaric daughter— but she swallowed any guilt. He was the enemy. He always would be. For him, she wouldn’t feel _anything._

She kept a hold of his right hand and led him from the docks. The palace was a short sleigh ride from the harbor, nestled in the heart of the South’s city. Unlike the North and all its delicacy, the South’s roads were paved sheets of ice, the buildings utilized more wood and furs than snow, and there was a rustic quality to the architecture. 

But, Katara loved it, because it represented her people and their hardships, the simplistic existence they’d fought for, and the strength they’d found because of it. She was proud of it. 

The sleigh halted before the palace, and Katara was helped from it by Zuko, who trailed her up the steps and through solid doors into a sweeping foyer. A fire roared in a hearth, driving the chill from her bones. 

“This is the public’s entrance,” she explained, stripping from her heavy cloak. A servant carried it off, and Katara instructed the woman to send the tailor to her and Zuko’s chambers. “We’ll rarely come in and out this way, but all guests are received here and so on.” 

Katara gestured for him to follow her. They moved towards the center of the palace, where she showed him the kitchens and the banquet hall. The smell of warm food filled the space. “We have an hour or so,” she said, “then I’ll bring you back here… and when I’m not with you, I’ll have a servant follow you around, so you don’t get lost.” 

“This way.” They went to the west wing. Two guards pushed open the doors for them, and Katara explained. “This is where the royal family resides. My father’s quarters, should you ever need him late, are at the very end of this wing. The nursery is here, the children’s rooms are across,” she pointed out a couple of doors, then stopped halfway down the hall.

“This is ours,” Katara said, opening a heavy oak door and leading Zuko into the room. A fire was waiting for them, crackling with heat. A sofa sat in front of it, with a tea table. There was a massive bed in the center of the room, covered in a spread of furs dyed both red and blue. “It is the tradition of my people for a husband and wife to share a bedroom and a bed.” 

* * *

At least she was kind. She was making an effort to make him feel welcome, and that relieved him. He’d spent months on the ship worrying that because of what he was, more than who, she would loathe him. His father was a tyrant who waged war on her people. His great-grandfather abolished a race. Who would want to marry into that family? Who would want him? His personality, he himself, too, wasn’t very much. He would do his best to be a good husband, and good father, but he was afraid he’d fail. His father had burnt his mother to a crisp in front of he and his sister’s eyes. He hadn’t much good example for either. 

But, he _wanted_ to be a good husband and a good father. He would do everything in his power to make it so. He would be kind to her in turn. She was a lovely woman, from his first impression, and he hoped he could bring her some satisfaction in some way. He hoped he could repay his country’s dues in that, and make his uncle proud. He hoped someday he could be someone she’d be proud to have as a husband, or at least not ashamed. He wondered if now she was ashamed to be betrothed to the son of a ruthless slaughterer. He couldn’t blame her for that. He was lucky enough to be granted such welcoming kindness despite his lineage. 

Her hand felt warm in the palace. The palace was warm, despite looking as though it was encased in ice. It felt warm inside. The decor was warm, despite being a cold country. It was the antonym of the Fire Nation. The Fire Nation was warm, but the palace felt callous and cold. It smelled of homecooked meals, and felt loving. He wondered if her family was loving. He wondered if she was close to her father. 

Zuko followed quietly, nodding and smiling warmly at her at each description. He’d make a small comment on how nice it was, or the architecture, or how lovely something was, and thank her. He didn’t want to speak too much for fear with more words there was more chance to misspeak. The less he said the better. That left little room for offense. His uncle would be ashamed if he were to do something to ruin the treaty with the most important nation. He’d be a shame to the entire country- to the entire peace legislation- to the Avatar himself.

Zuko blushed deeply when Katara showed them their bedroom, explaining the custom. It was beautiful though. There was a sofa, a tea table, a warm fire he could smell from here, a luxurious bed with warm furs, a room that lead to a bathing chamber, rugs, a window, an ornate bureau, and a bookshelf stock full of books he was curious to read. 

In royal families, husband and wife had separate chambers, and were only brought together to consummate. In normal neighborhoods, normal families, where people married for love or convenience, not bloodlines, they shared beds out of affection. It was interesting her people at least tried to mimic some semblance of affection in the coldness that was an arranged marriage. He hoped it wouldn’t always be cold. She seemed like a kind person. He hoped they could become friends, at least, and if not, good partners. He couldn’t imagine being stranded here, alone, married to a woman who hated him. That sounded horrid. He hoped to stay on her good side. 

He wanted to ask if in usual circumstances, did nobility marry for love like the commoners. But, he thought better of such nosy, ignorant-sounding things. He should know better of her customs since he had to assimilate here. It was his job to take on Water Tribe customs and abandon his own, especially since his own were Fire Nation. They’d all be linked to war and evil, even innocent, ancient things like holidays or rituals. He’d have to leave them all at the door for the sake of peace. The sages insisted this. 

“Thank you for showing me around, Princess Katara,” Zuko replied, nodding his head in respect and gratitude. “I’m very gracious for your warm welcome into your home.”

* * *

“Of course,” she murmured, her smile becoming smaller, but far more genuine. “In time, you’ll find that my land is cold, but its people are not. We’re warm…

 “It struck her that he might not be as cruel and sadistic as her people had come to believe of all firebenders. Katara knew as well as the next person that bad things and terrible legacies could fall into the lap of someone innocent. 

She regarded him quietly with this thought, trying to figure out what she could from his demeanor alone. Prying felt too personal… besides, they’d have a lifetime to learn about the other. 

Katara sighed and pushed her wandering thoughts away. There was a rap at the door. She went to open it, letting the tailor into the room.  

“If you strip to your undergarments, she’ll fit you for proper clothing,” Katara said, her comment directed at Zuko. “You’ll be much warmer in wool, leather, and fur; plus, with the wedding ceremony tomorrow morning, the final touches need to be made to your wedding garment, so please—” She gestured at him, taking a seat on the sofa. “I’ll wait, then we can go to the banquet together.” 

* * *

He was glad to hear that– her land was cold, and the people were warm. The opposite of his hot land with cold people. Of course, they’d been conditioned to act that way. His people were kind at heart too, beneath the fronts they’d put on through the war. They were suffering too. The Northern Water Tribe had overrun the poorer towns, and terrorized the people there. Maybe he could do some good for his country, and later, he could implore Katara to speak with her sister tribe to ask them to please end their heinous reign over the town of Rhi Yu. 

But for now, Zuko had to worry over his self-presentation. Katara might be kind towards him, but he knew he would be facing all sorts of bigotry here. The people would be cold to him, he was sure. They’d hate him for what his family had done, not only his country. It was his family. They’d loathe him, and act like it too. That was what the sages said, and what Zuko deducted himself. How could he expect kindness from them? It wasn’t even fair to ask of them. Zuko dreaded meeting and mingling with them at the wedding. If that was even done here. He hadn’t the faintest idea what Southern Water Tribe traditions were like in regards to marriage or what followed, and it intimidated him. He was incredibly nervous. He didn’t even know when they’d marry. Tonight? Tomorrow? Next week? What was typical?

He was too afraid to inquire, and soon she was shaking him from his musings anyhow. He blushed when Katara spoke, telling him to strip of his clothes and leave himself in his undergarments before the tailor and herself. He shouldn’t be so shy of her. He knew, soon enough, they’d be made to consummate the marriage. He was incredibly nervous for that, too. 

She took a seat on the couch, and he couldn’t hide his face quick enough to act like he didn’t think it was odd. He turned away quickly, hoping she didn’t see his skeptical glance. Zuko hesitantly glanced around, then pulled off his shoes warily. He felt like a spectacle and a bit of shame blazoned his cheeks. He then pulled off his satin, red pants, standing in his shirt and underwear. He then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulder, leaving him in just his underwear and a blush, exposing all his scars on his back and chest, marked with fire from his father’s hand. 

The tailor measured his arms, and legs, and brought him samples of different apparel until she found a good fit. She came back with a bundle, a closet worth, of clothes, and he thanked her before turning sheepishly to his fiancée. 

“Princess Katara, if- if you don’t mind my asking, may I ask you the formality of tonight’s event? What… what would be a proper garment for the evening? I don’t want to offend anyone by underdressing. I want to make sure I- I’m presented well.” 

* * *

“You’ll just want a, _um—”_ Katara shook her head. She’d been staring at him, she realized, and impolitely so. Scars mottled his skin, and not the kinds of scars that came from training accidents or battle. They were burns, systematic in their placement and their intended damage. 

Katara swallowed, her eyes flicking to the ground, but back to him just as quickly. “Zuko… Prince Zuko,” she bit her lip and stood, approaching him. “Do you— do you mind?” She pointed at a scar on his ribs, her finger a hairsbreadth from his skin. 

“I’m a healer,” she explained, drawing her hand back and pulling water from the air. She realized he may have never seen the process, much less a waterbender. “I’ll show you.” 

Katara made the water freeze, creating an edge that was razor thin. With a swift motion, she slid the edge across her palm, pressing her lips together with a sharp breath. Blood welled up and onto her skin, but Katara immediately let the water melt, and it glowed a bright white as she healed the gash. 

“See?” She held her hand out for him to inspect, showing only smooth skin and water dripping from her fingertips. “I know your wounds are old, but I can still help. If you have any residual pain, any nerve damage, I can ease it… if you’ll let me.” 

* * *

He could feel her stare, and he couldn’t blame her. His body was disgusting, mottled with marks, scars, burns. She was probably repulsed that she had to sleep with a man whose skin was so mangled. His face was disfigured, too. People always stared, and asked questions. She was likely disappointed. She probably wished Lu Ten was sent instead. He was always complimented for his good looks, and every week his cousin had a new girlfriend. He almost wanted to apologize to her, but thought better of it. 

She came up to him, and he grew anxious. Was she disappointed? He watched her curiously as her fingers traced over his skin, grazing, but not touching, over one of his scars that painted his ribs. Goosebumps rose, and he watched tentatively. 

Zuko audibly gasped when she cut herself, and looked at her in worry, shaking his head, about to ask what she was doing– was she trying to match him? But, before she could speak, she healed her own flesh. The blood disappeared, and it was as if nothing happened. 

“Agni, that’s incredible,” Zuko said breathlessly, forgetting his practiced demeanor. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “You’re a very talented waterbender, Princess Katara. I’d heard stories of how great you are, but to see it is… it’s very impressive. I’m very impressed. I’ve never seen anything like that before. You– You’re excellent, Princess Katara,” Zuko assured her, and he meant it too. The way she was able to heal her skin like that in no time was astounding. 

Then she was offering to help him, and her kindness touched him. He looked at her warmly, genuineness shining through his eyes despite what the sages warned him of. “That… that’s quite kind of you, Princess Katara,” Zuko said quietly with a warm smile. “Thank you… they’re scars, as– as you know… but I can’t feel anything anymore from them. I… I’ve lost feeling in the bigger scars– the deeper-set ones,” he explained quietly as if it was a scandal. 

He glanced aside, wondering if he should speak, “I don’t know… I’m sorry, please excuse my ignorance, Princess Katara, but I don’t know the scope of your ability… I can’t hear very well in this ear,” he spoke, his fingers grazing his scarred flesh. “And, my vision is impaired in my eye too… and I can hardly feel my face anymore on this side,” he admitted, his voice wary, shaky with anxiety for the words he disclosed. 

“But, I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want you to fret over me. I’m used to it. They’re old wounds…” he whispered, thinking of how the sages urged him not to speak of his father’s atrocities. It was too early to remind people of the cruelness of the Fire Nation’s royalty. He should keep quieter of it, not to stir the pot. Don’t dismiss anything the Fire Nation’s done, apologize immensely, accept the blame, accept the hatred, but don’t remind anyone of it. 

“From… sparring and… other things.”


	2. Chapter 2

Katara didn’t believe him, about the sparring and other things, but she didn’t push him. From her own experience, she knew pain wasn’t something be brought up and prodded. 

Instead, she dropped her hand from his ribs and nodded, “It’s not any issue, I promise. We’ll want to spend the night learning about each other,” Katara assured him. “I’ve found that having something to do with your hands makes talking easier.” 

She smiled softly, then turned away. The tailor had left a pile of clothing on their bed; Katara sorted through the items, selecting a part of deep blue pants, and beaded tunic, and a cloak. 

“These will be the right attire for tonight,” Katara said, facing Zuko again. “The Southern Tribe is never too formal, except for weddings, as you’ll see when we marry tomorrow morning…” She laughed softly, gesturing at her sapphire dress and the crown in her hair. “And when royalty shows up on our doorstep.”

Katara didn’t have to, but she helped Zuko into the tunic, smoothing her hands down the front of him. It fit him well, snug at his shoulders and his waist, and Katara could tell he was far more confident hidden under clothing. It bugged her that someone or something could be so cruel to another person, but again… she didn’t press him. 

She offered him the pants next, along with a pair of leather boots and a matching belt. Finally, Katara fitted a cloak around his shoulders and clicked the silver clasp into place. Stepping back, she admired him in the warrior attire.  

“You look very handsome,” Katara remarked, “but… we will have to change your hair. I know you’re here as a penance, but my people will not take kindly to a Fire Nation crown among their ranks. Perhaps a wolf tail? Or I can style your hair like my father’s?”

* * *

Zuko nodded, smiling at her as she agreed to try to heal his skin. She wasn’t angry at his ignorance, which relieved him. Ignorance in the Fire Nation wasn’t taken as lightly, even by foreigners. At least, by the nobles. He knew that Lu Ten would be kind to his wife from the Northern Tribe. But, she would have a horrid time living in the palace. The nobles would scrutinize her so, even though the Fire Nation were the ones who were apologizing and supposed to be submitting. It wouldn’t matter when she was alone there. Here, Zuko was the lone representative. It was different. He was the prey here for these councilmen and women to pick to the bone. He just prayed these people would be kinder, though at least their anger was far more warranted than the harsh critique of Princess Yue would be.

He felt very, very lucky. At least if the others were horrid, Katara seemed very, very kind. She helped him with his clothes, and smoothed her hands over his chest like she wanted to know him. Maybe they would be friends, after all. He hoped it wouldn’t be sheer misery. If he at least had her companionship and support, he could manage, he decided. His uncle always said that all someone needs to make it in this cruel world was one, good, real friend. That was advice Zuko had taken to heart. 

He felt nervous again when she announced the wedding was in the morning. He’d be put out on display before all her people and all her subjects and all her advisors and nobles, then. That would be the moment of truth for him, where he could see how harsh or not this life would be. Tonight at dinner would give some way to that as well. 

Zuko blushed, laughing shyly at her compliment, “Thank you, Princess Katara,” Zuko replied, his hand scratching gauchely behind his head, a habit of his he assumed she’d come to know. He tied the belt around his waist, and strapped on his boots, smiling at her warmly. He assumed her comment was a throwaway one of kindness, but Agni, she was breathtaking. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She almost didn’t look real, she was so beautiful. Her eyes were so blue they were distracting, her lips were full and shaped like a heart, her nose was round, but shaped, and like a button, and her skin glowed radiantly amongst her curls of long, beautiful hair. He was a very, very, very, very lucky man indeed. He imagined many of her tribe’s own men were mumbling that tonight. 

Zuko bowed his head, taking out his crown in submission. He hoped he’d at least be able to keep it in a drawer or something. He ran his finger over it, and placed it on a table. “Of course. Whatever is necessary. I- I’d like to make the best impression I can,” he assured her. “I… I don’t know which style is best. Whichever you think is best will be great, Princess Katara… thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

* * *

“My father’s style, then. It will flatter him.” She captured Zuko’s hand and led him to sit on the couch. Katara stood in front of him, carefully unpinning the gold headpiece. 

Zuko’s hair fell around his shoulders in a tumble of black. Katara set the crown aside and ran her fingers into the fine locks, briefly massaging his scalp. When she got a sigh of relief from him, she pulled back, going to their vanity for a tie, a few beads, and a Water Tribe pin.

Katara came back to him, poised between his knees, and pulled the top half of his hair back. She secured it with the tie and the pin, then pulled strands from around his face to braid and bead. 

“He’s a kind man, my father,” she started, wanting to break their silence. “He’s stern and fierce, but I’ve never known him to be unfair. He’ll come to like you… in fact,” Katara chuckled a little, “I imagine he already does. Thanks to you, he doesn’t have to field a hundred marriage proposals.” 

She smiled as she finished the braid, then went on. “And my people are good. They love and protect their own with everything in them… and they forgive, with time. I hope my actions can demonstrate that to you.”

* * *

“I want to please your father,” Zuko stated, “And your people… and you, of course,” Zuko told her as he stood there, and took comfort in her touch, even if it was simply cordial. It felt nice, regardless. She touched him in kindness, still. It felt intimate somehow, her doing his hair for this ceremony. He would say nothing unless prompted. The less he said, the better, as he was advised.

“I look forward to getting to know your father. He seems like a good man,” Zuko replied, only speaking when prompted. Saying simple things. He swallowed thickly then. He knew now they did, at least in royalty, typically have arranged marriages. At least he didn’t take her from her chances at love.

“You’re very kind, Princess Katara. I’m humbled to be betrothed to you,” he answered. “I cannot blame you nor your people for holding disdain against me for my family and nation’s crimes against you and yours. I seek your forgiveness, and am so grateful for your kindness.”

* * *

Katara eyed him with a touch of skepticism. “You sound so scripted,” she told him, her lips pursed. “All these sentiments about forgivneess and hospitality, _crimes…_ that can’t be how you really think.”

She raised her brows with a knowing look, putting the final beads in his hair. He looked like a handsome warrior, one who’d fought hard and come home with scars to honor his family. Although, Katara couldn’t imagine such a mark holding anything but shame for him. 

Watching his reaction closely, Katara trailed her fingers from Zuko’s hair to his cheek, brushing over the line between scar tissue and healthy, ivory skin. His coloring was beautiful, in a way that was different than the rich chocolate and deep bronze of her people. 

Katara smiled and moved her hand to cup his chin. “You’ll find, Prince Zuko, that my people prefer honesty and bluntness.” She angled his face so he’d look at her, so he’d see that she meant him no harm in telling him this. “I’d cut the act if I were you, or all they’ll see is another firebreathing snake that’d be prettier without its head.” 

* * *

Zuko didn’t know what to say. He felt as though he’d been exposed, or it was a trick to get him to say something. He swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, Princess Katara…” whispered Zuko, glancing around the room nervously. 

She kept putting the beads in his hair though, as he racked his brain for something to say without sounding scripted, but he was too afraid to say anything real. He wanted to, he wanted to make a real connection with his soon-to-be-wife. 

Zuko looked at her. He looked her in the eyes, her bright, bright eyes. Her eyes weren’t stern or discerning, they were kind and patient. He wanted to trust her, but he couldn’t, at least not yet. She touched him gently, and he leaned into her touch. 

His breath caught, however, in a gasp that then stilled, when she touched his scar. His eyes widened, but he let her. He hadn’t much choice. No one but doctors had ever touched his scar with intention. Mai had found it horrid, and Jin had shied away. 

His heart raced as her finger grazed his scarred skin, and he had to avert his gaze. He exhaled when she moved her hand to his chin, and spoke more coolly. She advised him on speaking to her people, and he looked down. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again, but she tilted his head upwards, and his chest grew tight. Was she angered? He worried– what would this mean for his people, if he lost favor so soon? What would it mean for the town the North terrorized? Zuko didn’t want to think about it. 

When he looked at her, he realized he may not have to. Her eyes were still soft, even though a threat spilled from her tongue. She likely meant it facetiously, but he found it hard to humor in his current situation, but he flashed an uncertain grin and wary chuckle. “I– I’ll try my best to be more genuine. I-I’m sorry… Princess Katara.”

* * *

“Don’t be,” Katara replied, a soft, genuine smile curving her lips. “You don’t know, Prince Zuko, and you’re not expected to know. I will teach you…” she whispered, leaning in.

He was so close to her, and she couldn’t deny a physical attraction to him. If he were another man, he’d be naked and pleading for her— they all knew that was how it started if they had such good fortune as to find themselves in her room.

Begging her was the first rule; nudity was the second. Zuko was neither, but he also wasn’t a plaything. He could be someone important to her. He _would_ be, Katara was sure of it… He was kind and interested, handsome and genuine, and his eyes held something desperate, his eagerness was stripped bare. That was enough.

She bowed her head, her fingers on his chin still, and brushed her nose against his. “I’ll teach you everything. I’ll be proud to call you mine,” she said, just before her lips met his—

It was chaste, the kiss. Katara breathed him in just long enough to know he smelled of sandalwood; she tasted him long enough to know he liked sugar in his tea. His lips were warm, so warm she had to credit the fire in his veins, and she suddenly wondered if the baring the rest of him would ignite her. When she pulled back, meeting surprised gold eyes, the absence felt like falling snow on her skin: cold and harsh.

Katara swallowed, unable to hide the blush on her cheeks. “I… I think you’ve given me a reason to look forward to our time later tonight,” she jibed, smirking playfully. Katara released Zuko’s chin, brushing a lock of hair behind his ruined ear. “Do all firebenders have such warm lips, or is it only you?”

* * *

She was kind, and he was grateful, but there was a tone of something… condescending to her statement. Zuko was a prideful man, one of his shortcomings, and most difficult aspect to work with on this mission. His uncle would say, “pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source”, and he would say, “during your marriage arranged to Princess Katara, you must swallow your pride, Prince Zuko. I know this is hard for a man such as yourself, but for your country, you must, Zuko.”

Zuko did just that, he swallowed his pride, and knew she was still, being kind. He was truly grateful for it. He was terrified he’d be forced to swallow pride against someone horrid. He thought he awaited a woman who would hate and scorn him for all he was and for where he came. She was gentle, patient, kind, and understanding. Not to mention, she was gorgeous. She was very attractive, and being with her would likely be anything but a punishment. 

She was so close, and the moment felt tender– intimate. He didn’t want to move, so he sat still, listening to heart beat steadily. But, she came close, her nose brushing his and she took him off guard when her soft lips grazed his. His eyes widened in surprise initially, but they then fluttered shut in pleasure. His hand moved to gently touch her side, and his lips upcurved in the slightest. Zuko hoped he hadn’t overstepped any rules or boundaries. 

It was nice, kissing her. It felt nice, and natural, and pleasant, and real. She tasted of spices and he could feel her smiling too against his lips. He thought for a moment he could kiss her forever, but as he did, she pulled back, and he smiled at her, and laughed in disbelief. His lips still tingled from her warm lips, and he was blushing. He wore a surprised, lopsided smile, which meant it was real. 

A very lucky man indeed, he decided with a warm laugh again. 

She teased him, and Zuko flushed a deeper red, laughing more, his hand then behind his neck. He worried for their evening following the marriage– but then, she said tonight, and he figured she must’ve misspoken. Surely they wouldn’t do anything tonight- before their marriage. He knew their customs were different, but there was no way anything premarital would be allowed or permitted. 

He sighed as she tucked hair behind his ear, and he longed to return her gentle affections. Fear restrained him from giving her the same tender touches. He wished he could show her that he wanted to be close too. He wanted this to work. He wanted them to be something, at least– something. 

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never kissed a firebender,” Zuko teased back gently, wary of his words as he smiled at her. To trust her with even such simple teasing was a step for him. 

He wondered still what she meant of the night. He was nervous to have sex with her, and embarrassed to admit he had no experience, but hoped that would be valued by her people too. He had no idea what the culture was. In the Fire Nation, premarital sex was very taboo, but the fire lords, both the men and women ones, would have concubines often, of both genders. Zuko wondered if the same was in the Water Tribes. He wondered if as princess and heir to the throne if she’d have concubines– did her father. Would he be expected to accept this, see his wife bed other men. 

Some fire lords fell for their arranged spouses, and did away with concubines. Some took them in every night. It depended on the individual. Zuko didn’t think he could do it. He’d be married. It’d be wrong, at least it would be in his heart. He wondered how her country viewed it. They seemed to value the relationship in marriage as more than just a child-bearing routine, as in the Fire Nation. He figured this by how they were expected to share a bed. That made it harder to drag in concubines. 

Zuko realized he knew little of her people, but he longed to know and learn and understand her culture as he too yearned to know, and understand his fiancée.

* * *

Katara laughed at his teasing, her eyes alight. “You’re quick,” she remarked, smiling. “You’ll fit right in with my family… My father can’t say a thing without drenching every word in sarcasm, and my grandmother’s wit is as dry as old bones.” 

“Pakku, my master and Gran-Gran’s husband, he’s a bit more reserved… uptight, like those Northerners are. You just have to get him out of his shell,” she explained, settling her hands on his shoulders. 

“I’ll bother him while we eat. You’ll see.” Katara gave Zuko an affectionate squeeze, then went to the vanity to check her hair. She looked at Zuko in the reflection, going on. “My brother used to say I’m mix of all three, even though Pakku’s not related by blood. I’m wry and witty… I just got my mother’s kindness… so I refrain from overloading my betrothed with terrible jokes.” 

She shrugged, turning back around and coming to him. The subject of her martyred family was too heavy for such a time; Katara wanted to move on before he asked about the _used to_ and _where is your mother_ — everyone else did. 

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “We’ll want to take our seats before the council arrives, or there’ll be no food left. Those fat asshats,” Katara chuckled to herself. “After the banquet and the blessing, we’ll have all night to talk.” 

* * *

Zuko watched her, utterly charmed by the ease in which she spoke and the way her hair fell over her shoulders, framing her lovely face. Her family seemed like quite the bunch, but she spoke so lovingly of all of them. Despite her royal status, they seemed… normal? Her father likely didn’t murder her mother, and her mother likely didn’t attempt to murder her grandfather, and surely her father didn’t try to murder her, and her uncle probably didn’t successfully kill her grandfather and imprison her brother.

Maybe it would be nice, belonging to a warm family, if he could be so lucky as to be accepted by them someday. If he didn’t get himself shipped home or executed. Zuko didn’t feel so scared of that right now. Katara was very kind, and she had him wearing a warm, genuine smile and chuckling softly. He hadn’t much to add. “My uncle would love them then,” Zuko replied, hoping she’d appreciate his genuineness. “They sound as wonderful as you are.”

He gasped when Katara grabbed his hand and tugged him up, and he laughed. She seemed eager as she pulled him through the warm corridors amidst the icicles that hung on the windows. He laughed when she spoke of the food— people were people. The fat cats in the Fire Nation did the same, hobbled everything up without leaving so much as crumbs for the rest of them.

The banquet hall was extravagant and decked out to the nines. It smelled Devine, and the feast looked delectable from here. Zuko was eager to eat. He was famished, he followed Katara to their seats at the front of the long table. His stomach dropped with nerves. Was he to speak? He wasn’t the best at mingling. They were going to hate him.

“Is… is… it tradition to have a banquet such as this before a wedding?”

* * *

Katara bobbed her head as they sat down, “We’ve always celebrated weddings with extravagance in the South.” She put her hand over Zuko’s on the table top; she could tell he was nervous and Katara couldn’t blame him.  

The hall was loud and raucous, full of color and clamoring men and women. Kids squealed and laughed, running amock. Serving staff dished hot plates of sea prunes stew, king crab, and seal meat. Zuko’s gold eyes flicked over it all, round and wondering. 

Katara smiled as she gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s a big deal when we have weddings. It’s special. In the past, during the war, my people would honor the couple however they could, since there wasn’t much to go around.. They’d make gifts and hunt and ready a hut for the newlyweds to share.”

“Now that the war’s over, we can do this.” She looked away, out at the scene and all the smiles. “Of course, we still uphold all the old traditions, because that’s how we survived, by honoring each other and respecting the spirits.” 

* * *

He was grateful for her hand over his. His was shaking, and she could likely feel it, but having her hand did calm him down. Zuko was relieved enough to hear that she cared even that he was nervous. The sages had warned him to prepare for hatred, and brace himself for a loveless marriage where he was nothing more than a sperm donor. They told him she would likely hardly look at him, but already she had done nothing but go out of her way to try to make him comfortable.

She wasn’t ashamed to be marrying him either. She held his hand over the table with pride written on her sharp, beautiful features. He was told his future wife might be embarrassed to marry what they called ash-makers, especially the son of a warlord. His father was a general known for brutal attacks and ruthless lack of mercy. Katara was being fair, though. She was giving him a benefit of the doubt. She was nothing but kind. Zuko decided the sages were idiots, and he was just going to judge things as Katara seemed to- individually- as he went.

“It looks wonderful,” Zuko replied, eyeing the food as his stomach growled and he laughed. He hadn’t had a hot meal in ages. “Everyone looks like they’re having a good time. Our weddings are incredibly formal. Only nobles and diplomats come… you exchange words, and leave. There’s a reception, but it’s so boring. There’s no music or anything. It’s just formal toasts and such… this is very different. I like it. It seems nice,” Zuko explained, hoping that she understood he meant it as a compliment, an honest one too. Their weddings did seem better.

“I- I will do everything I can to make sure I uphold your people’s traditions to the best of my ability. I hope I can do them proud.”

* * *

Katara returned her attention to Zuko at his comment. It was his recited script all over again, brought back by his fears of what lay ahead.

For a split second, she had to fight the irritated flare in her blood. This wasn’t a situation she’d label as easy. She was angry. She was tense. Her emotions were a twisted up nest inside her chest. 

And, she’d been in many a dire predicament in the past— lost, freezing, hunted, aching. Name it and she’d faced it, somewhere, at some point. Being asked to marry him, a man she only knew because his legacy spewed fire and death, scared her more than all the rest. But she was here, and she was trying; she was reaching for every fraction of sympathy and comfort she could find.

Yet, for Zuko, her efforts hardly seemed enough. He was either too frightened of her and her countrymen to see her as genuine, or he was a master at this part of weak, timid Prince. 

She pursed her lips, undecided on the subject of his character, but firm in her choice to remain friendly and kind. Her mother would be proud of her for it… or so she liked to believe. 

“You have nothing to fret about,” Katara murmured, low enough so only Zuko could hear. “Trust me. My people adapt; we change. We can accept new things. We’re like our element in that way.” 

Katara wiggled her fingers, prompting Zuko to entwine his with hers. “This marriage will require compromise from both of us. It’s the first arranged marriage in a generation for the South… it will require work, but we’ll get there, and you’ll find favor in my people’s hearts as long as you seek it.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled at her when she linked their fingers. He wondered why she was so kind to him. She had every reason under the sun to hate his guts, but she was holding his hand over dinner. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand in a gentle, mindless affection, listening to her sweet, stream-like voice.

But, her sentiment left him with widened eyes, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, and sympathy behind his amber gaze. He had taken her from her chances at love. He was the reason she would never find organic love. she would never have that choice to naturally fall in love, and marry— because of him, because of his country, his family, and his people. Guilt tore at his heart and he looked down in shame.

“I… I am so sorry, Katara,” whispered Zuko. He was going to be married off, regardless. Unless he already had someone, and he begged his uncle. But more likely than not, he would have been arranged to marry, regardless of the treaty. This treaty, which meant him, essentially, he had ruined all her hope of love, and that was an awful, awful thing.

Still, she was kind. He didn’t understand it. “I didn’t know it had been so long since someone in your family had an arranged marriage… I am sorry… I’m sorry I took away your shot at finding love,” Zuko said, his visage worn with despondence.

“I… I’m very happy to get to marry you, Princess Katara, and… I hope, in time, you can be happy to have married me… even if I have taken your hope for love.”

* * *

“Stop apologizing,” Katara demanded, her tone sharp and sure. She met his worried gaze with a fierce stare. “Your people… they’ve done horrible things to mine, to the world, but we’ve rained atrocities on your lands all the same. You, though, you personally— you’ve done nothing to me.” 

She swallowed and looked away. The intensity of their private conversation had turned a few heads. Advisors and party-goers were watching them. 

This arrangement was for peace, to demonstrate peace. If she and Zuko, along with the other pairs being married off, could find happiness and community, then the rest of the world could follow. Unfortunately, this only meant outside scrutiny on top of their demanding marriage. 

Katara managed a smile before any rumors of a poor match could spread, and leaned into him. “I won’t have you apologizing,” she said, softly this time. “You may have taken my chance of marrying for love from me, but you have not taken my hope for love. I still dream of that.” 

* * *

Zuko averted his gaze when she snapped at him, and focused it on the plate. He almost apologized for apologizing, but stopped himself. He swallowed thickly, and listened. He bit his lip as she spoke of what his people had done, but she then said he’d done nothing to her, and he exhaled in relief. Nothing had relieved him more than to hear that. She wasn’t blaming him for his people and family’s sins. 

Every bit of him wanted to spew off apologies, but he restrained himself, his fingers tracing along the tablecloth anxiously as he felt people staring. He hoped rumors didn’t spread the way they did at home, but something told him they did, and that had more to do with human nature than culture. 

When she spoke more kindly, the same sentiment, he leaned in close to her. He frowned when she said he had taken her chance of marrying for love, “Princess Katara, I know what you said, but I must humbly–” he spoke, but when she finished he smiled warmly. A tender chuckle fell from his lips at her statement and he reached to squeeze her hand. 

“As do I.”


	3. Chapter 3

Katara’s chest warmed with his shared sentiment. She relaxed; her formal posture gave way to a lean, with her shoulder tucked up under his arm and her side nestled against his ribs. He was warm, warmer than anyone else she’d nuzzled up with, and Katara decided she liked it. 

To some, it might’ve been too soon for such closeness, but she couldn’t make herself care. She’d been angry when his ship arrived, so much so that she felt betrayed, but now, just hours later, Katara thought she’d be alright. She could do this; she could marry and she could find a way to be happy. 

_Adaptability. Resilience. Change._

Those words made up the Water Tribe’s soul— as her father said, standing a short time later to bless the feast. His tribe was powerful because they’d persevered; they were thriving because they’d created the best in their circumstances.

When Hakoda spoke of Katara’s soul, he added that she was made of dragon fire. The crowd laughed because it was true. She was fierce and determined, unrelenting in everything she did. That was why the Chieftain allowed the marriage: if any Princess of the Water Tribe married a firebender, it should be the one who burned brightest. 

Katara blushed and looked down. As proud as she was, her father could make her cry in seconds with his tenderness. The people who’d gathered  _‘awwed,_ ’ until Hakoda addressed the Prince and a thick silence fell. 

She could _feel_ Zuko’s heartbeat. Katara slipped her hand into his, both tucked under the table in her lap. Her smile encouraged him.

“Prince Zuko,” the chieftain started, “I have only two things to say to you. One, if you hurt my daughter, I know where you sleep. I may not be a bender, but trust me, I don’t need to be. And two… I believe a man should be judged on his actions, and his actions alone. Consider this your chance to leave your family’s legacy. We’re rebuilding the world, and that means forgiving you.” 

* * *

The people in the Water Tribe knew how to enjoy themselves, that was for sure. The laughter of children wasn’t shushed, and the adults roared with it just as loud. There were rounds of drinks all around with excuses of having to stay warm behind smirks. Everyone ate until their belts were about to burst, adn there was no shortage on smiles. It was a warm community, and for an event so formal, everyone was seeming to have a good time. It was a stark contrast to the events he was used to in the Fire Nation. In the Fire Nation, everyone dreaded any of these type of events. They were long, boring, overly-formal, and fun was all but banned, and dancing was criminal, and eating more than one polite was impolite, and more than sipping at your wine was seen as barbaric. You could be human here. 

Zuko was distracted by people-watching, and too nervous to have the stomach for a drink, no matter how much it’d likely help him. He also felt too shy for it- he still didn’t know how he’d be judged or perceived as an outsider. But, he did stuff his face with a plate full of food. Some of it was too bitter for his taste, especially the sea prunes. But, much of it was savory, hearty, and delicious, and Zuko had two helpings of beef. He’d hardly ate anything on that ship in the past months, and this real, hot meal was a warm welcome to his palate and stomach, and Katara encouraged him to eat up. 

When he sat back down beside her, she nuzzled up beside him, and Zuko couldn’t help but smile. He drifted his hand atop hers, and returned the gesture, resting beside her. His heart felt warm, and he felt incredibly relieved. Everything the sages said seemed for naught. But, when it was time for the Chief to speak, Katara’s father, the most powerful man in the world, Zuko’s heart spiked again. Everyone knew what and whom he was about to address.

Zuko held his breath after swallowing thickly, and his heart was racing. His hands trembled, and he hoped Katara didn’t notice. He smiled as he spoke fondly of his daughter, but in the back of his mind, worry prevailed for what inevitably came next. And, it did. Hakoda cleared his throat, and addressed Zuko. He wanted to close his eyes, or hide, but he stood up straight with a faux-confident smile, and he smiled back genuinely at his fiancée who held his hand in support. 

When Hakoda did speak, it was short and sweet, with a joke and a smile. And… he was granted with forgiveness. Zuko laughed in relief, and nodded in gratitude at the chief. Hakoda, too, had been forgiving and kind. Zuko couldn’t believe it, and he smiled at Katara through his relieved chuckle. “That wasn’t so bad,” Zuko told her, his thumb grazing her hand in a soothing circle. “I was expecting a lot worse,” Zuko said with another laugh. “I’m glad that’s over with,” he spoke, forgetting to uphold his formal stance with the princess amidst how comfortable she’d made him, and he sat upright, looking her in those bright, blue eyes, and exchanging a genuine, warm smile.

* * *

“I told you.” Katara nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “People talk about the chieftain like he’s as cold as ice, but he’s a big softy if he likes you.” She twirled a strand of Zuko’s hair around her finger. “And he _will_ like you… because I think _I’ll_ like you.” 

Katara smiled softly, combing through the ends of Zuko’s soft, raven locks, then she cupped his chin. It was similar to their position in their room, with him watching her expectantly and nervously, and her lips curling with a flirtatious smirk. Except, this time, she was level with him and pressed far too close to be appropriate at any other formal gathering. 

But at a wedding, at _her_ wedding, no one cared. No one blinked an eye in their direction when Katara kissed him for the second time, more slowly than the first. 

She savored him, swiped her tongue over his lips and tasted him. She coaxed his mouth open and breathed him in, sighing softly. When Katara pulled back, tugging his bottom lip in her teeth, Zuko’s cheeks were a bright red, his eyes wide and shocked. 

“Sorry,” Katara murmured, pecking the side of his mouth quickly. “You’re lovely to kiss, but I don’t mean to embarrass you… I don’t know what the Fire Nation is like. Affection, and, well, pure attraction in our case, isn’t something we hide in the South. When we’re happy with someone, we show it.” 

She looked him over, an apology in her gaze. “I can respect if the public display makes you uncomfortable; besides, we won’t be here much longer.” Katara pointed to the banquet hall’s doors, which were being pulled open to signal the end of the meal. “My father is going to send us off in a second, and then you can kiss me _however_ you want.”

* * *

Zuko smiled at her, blushing while she twisted his hair around her finger in the public eye so nonchalantly. In the Fire Nation, the whole table would be staring at them already with wide eyes and their jaws on the floor. No one even batted an eye here as Katara gazed into his, and twisted his ebony locks around her index finger with a warm smile. She was very affectionate, and she didn’t even know him yet really. He wondered what she was like with men she loved. He wondered if she’d ever been in love. 

“He seems like a good man,” Zuko whispered, smiling at her through his blush, but he was taken even more off guard when her lips swooped onto his. His eyes widened in shock, but he still couldn’t help as they fluttered shut at the warm feeling that enveloped from his stomach, up his chest, and warmed his whole. He smiled against her mouth, but he could feel his face aflame with humiliation. Surely, now, even the Water Tribe people would be staring. He thought he could feel their gazes burning into the back of his head as Katara deepened their kiss to a level he’d never take outside a bedroom. She pulled back while tugging his lip, and he glanced nervously around the room, looking for eyes on them, but no one even seemed to notice. He was stunned.

Still, he was blushing and fumbling, and his eyes were wide with shock. He swallowed thickly, pulling himself together. “You’re– You’re fine, it’s fine… I just… I mean… you- you’re lovely to kiss as well, Princess Katara, I- I have no complaints, but I just… in the Fire Nation, we- we don’t… I’ve never… I wouldn’t– I’m not used to such… public displays of affection. I- I’m sure in time, I’ll grow more comfortable,” he assured her, but he was still so flustered and bright red. She noticed it because her eyes went soft, and she apologized. 

“Thank you, Princess Katara, for– for understanding… I- I assure you, in time, I’ll get more comfortable with your… traditions,” he stated with a laugh, his red cheeks slowly beginning to fade back to his pallor color. Katara explained that the dinner was almost through, and she spoke of their evening as if they were to consummate their marriage tonight, despite not even wed. They wouldn’t already share a bed… would they? Surely, even in the South, it was unacceptable to share a bed with anyone of the opposite sex other than your spouse. Zuko couldn’t fathom it at home. Everything was different here- very different. 

Hakoda wrapped up the dinner with a toast, and the party attendees laughed, and drank to the couple. Everyone was bright and cheerful as they bid farewell, and left with promises to be there tomorrow for the wedding ceremony. The crowd faded out as Hakoda dismissed them, shaking their hands at that door while Katara and Zuko stood and waved goodbye from where they were seated. 

Hakoda then came over to them, when all the guests were gone, and the servants rushed in and began cleaning the royal banquet hall. He hugged his daughter, and shook Zuko’s hand, then kissed Katara’s head goodnight while tearing up. Zuko smiled at the man, and bowed in gratitude, looking over at Katara then who too was teary-eyed. He wondered what it was like, to be close with your father. At least Zuko could know that his children would have a nice relationship with their grandfather. Hakoda seemed to be a loving, family-oriented man. He seemed to put his family even above his reign. That was unheard of in the Fire Nation as well, but Zuko was sure he respected that more. That tradition, he greatly preferred. 

When Hakoda left to his own quarters, Katara lead Zuko back down those ornate, but warm corridors. They got to her room, or their room, and she opened the door with a little, blue key, and turned to Zuko with a smile, gesturing him in. He was wary and hesitant, as it was nightfall, and in his country, this would be deemed wildly inappropriate, and with the princess, no less.

The room felt even cozier at night, and Zuko stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say, or what was permitted. 

“Thank you for the dinner… everything was wonderful, really, Princess Katara.” 

* * *

She was suddenly nervous. The entire day, her worries had been buried beneath something else: anger, then curiosity, then an almost-teenage-giddiness. Every assumption she’d made of Zuko had proven false. He was sweet and tender-hearted, too eager to please her in some instances, but Katara felt he’d be a wonderful husband to her. 

Now, though, she was uncertain. Not about Zuko, but about the night, about the coming week. In the day, she was the princess, the future ruler of this frozen land, but beneath the moon, she was Zuko’s wife. They were equals— 

Except, they weren’t. 

Katara turned on her heel, her eyes flicking down Zuko’s stiff frame. He was standing just inside the door, watching her with unbridled anxiety. His fingers wiggled. His cheeks were flushed. 

How little he knew had only become more and more apparent during the banquet; she felt guilty. Weren’t the Sages instructed to teach him? She tilted her head to the side, her mouth agape with that very question, but it seemed condescending right then. 

Instead of pressing him, Katara went to the sofa, waving him over to sit with her. She took his hand in hers, resting them in her lap. 

“I think you’ve been given some poor information,” Katara started, glancing at him. “You’re tense… too tense for someone who knows what to expect, so… I can only guess that the Sages— or whoever made the journey with you— told you things that aren’t true.” 

She paused, drawing little shapes on the back of his hand. It was meant to comfort him, but Katara found the repetitive motion soothing. “The Southern Water Tribe places a certain amount of emphasis on the… intimate aspects of marriage.” 

“It’s told that our spirits, Tui and La, spent seven years consummating their love and the Water Tribes were born from it. Now that they’ve entered the physical world, they dance around each other endlessly,” Katara explained. Her face heated slightly, and she looked at the fire.

“We- we model our weddings after them, after those seven years,” she murmured, almost breathless. Her stomach was a twisted up knot when she looked at Zuko again. “The banquet marked the start of our week together. We’ll have seven days in this room, each one beginning with a ceremony, and seven nights, every evening closing with a banquet. You can be whoever you want in here, Zuko. You can say whatever you want, ask whatever you want, do whatever you please with me… this is our chance to bare ourselves and our souls. It’s our chance to honor the spirits.”

* * *

Zuko walked over to the intricate sofa to sit with her. Her pretty hand, adorned with simple rings, traced his skin. It soothed him a bit, but his nerves still took over. He still didn’t have a clue what to expect. The sages had fed him lies about a brutal, cruel wife, and a miserable life where he was all but a prisoner or glorified concubine. He didn’t know her that well, but he knew she wasn’t brutal nor cruel. So now he was stuck in the dark without a clue of what to expect.

He listened to her traditions, his ears alight as he met her eyes. “That’s a beautiful story,” replied Zuko quietly. “We don’t have any. You just marry for children. That’s all… at least in the royal quarters,” explained Zuko.

But when the conversation turned, Zuko’s eyes widened and he tended again. The wedding had begun? How? Zuko was not ready. He was completely unprepared for the consummation. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t say no, he had to please her, he had to respect their traditions and culture.

But, she also said he could be himself here: ‘bare his soul’. Did she mean it? Did she mean it through and through? He was hesitant.

“Without… penalty?” Zuko asked carefully, “I… I just— I don’t want to offend you, Princess Katara… but I would like to be open with you… do you mean it? I can speak freely to you? My biggest fear is disappointing you, then my people, the world, by failing this treaty… by being dismissed here of my duties as your husband. I just… I need to ensure… please, I… I need your word if… if this is going to be safe— for me to speak…”

* * *

“I’m a woman of my word,” Katara replied, smiling gently. “I told you that you’re free to say what you’d like, so you are… and I want you to, Zuko.” 

She licked her lips, then drew her knees up and shifted on the couch. Facing him, Katara moved their hands to his lap, her eyes drifting along his blue furs and the curve of his shoulders. When she met his gaze, Katara held it, hoping he’d see her sincerity. 

“I don’t want someone who only tells me what they think I’ll like,” she told him. “I’ve had enough men like that, only telling me the pretty things and acting like I can’t handle what’s been dirtied.”

Katara scoffed at her comment. “They think because I’m a princess that I need compliments and constant appeasing, but they don’t know me at all. I want my husband to know me; I want to know you… so, please, Zuko… you can speak to me however you’d like.”

* * *

“Alright,” Zuko agreed, though he was still nervous. He smiled at her. “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s failing here- if I fail you, I fail my people, your people, and the whole world. The sages instructed me- or told me, that you would be a cold woman,” he stated, smirking a bit, “besides the climate,” he jested. “So, I was… intimidated. I- I’m still a little hesitant, just because the stakes are so high,” Zuko whispered.

“They said the people of the Southern Tribe were brutal and could be cruel, and that I should watch my tongue if I wanted to keep my head,” Zuko said with a laugh. He thought of what they said about concubines too, but then decided that much he could infer from later. “I see now that that’s ridiculous. Maybe they should look in the mirror,” he scoffed.

“I… I’m nervous, Princess Katara. I’m… I’m thousands of miles from home… in a strange place, alone… I don’t know anything. My sages, I think, lied to me. I don’t know anything… or what to expect. I’m… I’m nervous,” he admitted. “You’ve made me feel so much better, truly, I’m honestly very grateful for that- for you,” he said with a warm smile. “I’m _very_ relieved that you’re so kind,” Zuko stated, chuckling tenderly. “You’re beautiful, too, if you don’t mind my saying so… I’m sure you hear that all the time,” he whispered, “I’m sure you’re disappointed in your match,” he joked with red cheeks.

“I was going to be married off no matter what, since I’m a prince. We don’t choose who we Marry in fire nation royalty. The only difference is I’m not home, but… even though it’s unbearably freezing, I think I can… or, I hope I can come to find this place home.”

* * *

Katara tilted her head as she listened. None of it was what she expected, but her lips curled up into a smile anyway. “Your sages didn’t lie, Prince Zuko, but your sages don’t know us.”

“We’re a proud people, and we can be brutal. We have to be, to survive the assaults from your nation, to survive this cold— there’s no other way,” she said, her voice still soft. “We’re gentle, though. We protect and love our own.”

She pulled her hand free of his, but quickly returned her touch to the back of his head. His hair was silky to the touch, and Katara had the briefest thought that she could spend days just playing with the delicate strands. 

“You’re a part of our tribe now, Prince Zuko. You’re one of us.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her with a smirk, leaning into her touch as her fingers reached into his hair. Her eagerness for physical affection must’ve been another cultural thing. She just met him, and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. He didn’t mind at all, matter of fact, he craved it, and relished in it. He was all but starved of touch. In the Fire Nation, affection was almost like a fairytale, something seen only in childhood.

“Brutal in defense, perhaps, but you can hardly be faulted for that,” Zuko replied sincerely. “Cruel, though? I don’t think you nor your people are _cruel_ ,” Zuko added before sighing deeply.

Zuko smiled, a bright, lopsided grin when she told him he was one of theirs. He met her soft eyes, and felt a sudden urge to kiss her. Because she was truly beautiful- and not just on the outside. But fuck, had she caught his gaze. He couldn’t waver it, his mind was stuck like a broken record as he tried to absorb that this woman was really going to be his wife. It all seemed so strange, and he was homesick, and afraid, but not at all anymore dreading his life’s partner. He felt fortunate for her, and dammit, he wanted to kiss her. But, he was still too timid to initiate anything, despite what she’d granted him earlier.

“Princess Katara, I don’t know hardly a thing about you… I’d like to change that.”

* * *

She thought, for a long moment, that he was going to kiss her. He’d looked at her like she was the only thing in the world for him, licked his lips, glanced at hers… Then, his eyes drifted away, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, and Katara looked down, trying to hide the brief disappointment. 

He had to like her, right? He had to want to kiss her? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have returned her own advances… He would’ve pulled back… _right?_

Katara stared at the flames, trying to squash this almost-teenage-crush that made her belly churn and her bones feel like mush. She knew he didn’t _have_ to do anything… she just wanted him to. 

Fighting her own insecurities, Katara made sense of his comment, then glanced at him. “You can ask me whatever you want,” she assured him. “I won’t be angry over anything… I’m an open book as far as my past, I just have trouble knowing where to start.” 

* * *

He wished he was as open. He wished he was that confident. Zuko wondered how his fiancée– or wife? Was she his wife already? He still didn’t quite grasp that whole thing. This was phase one of their wedding? Did that mean they were wed? Or were they not officially wed until their ceremony tomorrow morning? He didn’t know, and felt too stupid to ask. She was receptive of his questions, but one couldn’t help but judge. He didn’t want her to think he was stupid. That was the last thing he wanted. Everyone had always spoken to him his whole life as if he was an inferior, and unintelligent. His father, his sister, the generals, his crew, they all thought he was a moron. He felt like one, but he didn’t want _Katara_ to think he was one. 

He didn’t know what to ask her. That question danced on the tip of his tongue, “Well… I mean… your family– tell me about your family, if– if you want,” Zuko spoke, and he bit his lip then before glancing at her a bit nervously. “And… I’m sorry, if this is a stupid question, I just– no one briefed me on your customs, or if they did, I think they had misinformation, and… are we… are we officially married now? Earlier, you said this was part of the seven days– from the spirits? So is it at the end of the seven days? Or… today? Or… after the ceremony? I’m just… are you my wife or my fiancée right now?” Zuko asked with a laugh, shaking his head. 

He bit his lip again, chancing a glance at her, and he tentatively reached for her hand again. He missed the support and comfort of her hand, of this de facto stranger’s hand, who may or may not already be his wife. “I’d be honored to be either,” he added teasingly, his eyes alight and his smile crooked with a teasing visage. 

* * *

Katara stared at him. From the second he mentioned her family and on, she just stared. Zuko went further, stuttering about what they were,but her thoughts were swamped with what to tell him. 

How did she say that her mother traded places with her? That she should’ve died in that fateful raid, not Kya? How was she supposed to explain that her brother launched an invasion? That he was tortured to death? That her father received piece by piece of his son?

Suddenly, this marriage, all the peace and the forgiveness it was supposed to symbolize, seemed like a farce. Katara had to look away, had to swallow the biting remark about how Zuko should ask his father and grandfather what happened to her family. 

A second later, after a deep breath, Katara cleared her throat. “My mom and brother died in the war, and… you’ve met my dad. He’s everything to me now… he’s all I have left. Besides you, of course.” She risked a glance at him, letting him take her hand without any protest. Maybe he sensed she was hurting. Katara smiled faintly at that. 

“I have you now, too,” she murmured. “We’re— well, it’s hard to explain, but… I’m yours, and you’re mine. We’re one… We’re to become one over the course of these seven days, and if the spirits find us worthy, our marriage will be blessed… it’s weird, I know.” 

Katara pulled her hands away, fisting her gown as insecurity swelled in her chest. “If you… if you need a common way to describe what we are.. then yes, we’re married. My father giving us his blessing was the beginning of it.” 

* * *

Zuko squeezed her hand tighter when she spoke of her brother. His eyes widened, and he wore the empathy on his sleeve. He wore the guilt too, “I’m so sorry,” Zuko muttered, his thumb running over the back of her wrist in comfort. “Agni, I’m so sorry… Princess Katara… I’m sorry… I’m sure… I’m sure my family had something to do with that in some way, and if not, my people did, and… I’m sorry,” Zuko stated, squeezing her wrist in comfort, “And, I’m sorry it happened at all. Nothing is more painful,” he insisted. “I know you told me not to apologize anymore, but I– I’m going to have to ask you to allow an exception,” he murmured, letting out a shaky sigh. “I know what it’s like… to have Fire Nation take away your mother,” he choked out, his thumb caressing the back of her hand and wrist- seeking to bring her some comfort. 

He was angered and disgusted by what his countrymen had done. He wondered if Katara knew of the North’s raids. He wondered if she cared. It was her sister tribe, but not her own tribe. Maybe she thought his people deserved it for what his had done to hers and the rest of the world’s. Zuko stared downward, thinking of the desolation in the villages. 

Zuko looked up, however, when she said he was hers. His heart warmed, and his cheeks tinged pink. “I’m glad I have you too. I was terrified of being terribly lonely here,” he admitted. “The sages had me convinced I was nothing more than a symbol and means to create a biracial heir,” he whispered. “I was ready to accept that. I was, and am, ready to accept whatever need be for the treaty, for my people, and yours, though I suppose your people are mine now too, as well,” he mused aloud. “But… I’m glad there might be less I have to accept,” Zuko spoke with a warm laugh. 

“I’m still a little confused. Marriage is very different in the Fire Nation. You say your vows, and that’s it. You’re married, husband and wife, one and done,” Zuko spoke with a laugh. “So… we are… we’re married?” Zuko asked, looking for clarification. “You’re my wife, and I’m your husband? And… it’ll be… solidified on the seventh night? If we’re lucky?” he teased a little, and a blush overcame him at his next question that made him avert his gaze. “And… um… does that mean… that’s why we’re… sharing a bed, and… um… tonight are we… are we supposed to… _consummate_ the marriage?”

* * *

“In a sense,” Katara shrugged, smiling at him. To her, all his questions were endearing. She liked that he was interested and trying, rather than some pompous prince. “This is our wedding. It’s untraditional, for your people, at least, but this is how we marry in the south.”

She felt a sliver of excitement run through her then, perhaps at the prospect of spending a more intimate time with him, or she might’ve been giddy just to be married. This week had been something she looked forward to since she was a teenager. Every girl dreamed of the perfect, romantic, lust-filled week, and Zuko was proving a good companion for her.

Katara took his hand, her smile turning a bit shy as she looked at him. “Think if it as a celebration. We celebrate each other, the spirits, what it means to be married to someone and that commitment— that’s what we’re doing through our time here.”

“At the end of the week, we’re presented to the public as husband and wife. It’s formal and the world gets to know,” Katara explained, trailing her fingers up his arm, then down his chest. “But tonight, and for the six nights following, it’s just us. It’s private. It’s a secret joining of our bodies and souls.”

* * *

It sounded lovely, and far more romantic than anything in the royal Fire Nation. There was no celebration of the bond between the husband and wife in a Fire Nation wedding, or even marriage. It was clear what was happening– you both have an important bloodline, now go make some babies in case the fire lord gets offed. Their ceremony seemed to actually care about the relationship of the two of them, even in this royal setting. Zuko liked it. He liked the idea of it– the romance behind it. He was happy he was supposed to, at least, mean something– and she to him, too. “That sounds lovely… I prefer it to our weddings, honestly” Zuko whispered with a smirk, his fingertips tracing up and down her wrist absentmindedly.

His mood quickly turned when she answered his next question. His stomach tied in knots again. He wasn’t ready for that just yet, he thought he had an entire day to prepare to consummate the marriage. Anxiety spiked in his chest, and Zuko inhaled sharply. To deny her would be insulting to her customs and traditions and culture. In the Fire Nation, denying to consummate a marriage was an indication of dissatisfaction. If they had similar views, he didn’t want her to get any idea that he was at all displeased with her because that could not be more false. 

Goosebumps rose on his skin as she touched him, and his heart raced. He decided he’d better be ready fast. She wanted this, and she expected it, as per tradition. They were to consummate all week long, according to her explanation. Zuko finally exhaled the breath he’d been holding, shakily. At least they’d be doing this together. They’d be learning together. They could go slow together, and figure it out. He’d heard plenty of men, especially aboard the ship, speak of pleasing women. Maybe their lewd conversations would come in handy, and he would be able to please her. That was all he wanted. He’d give her the reigns if she wanted them because he had no idea what he was doing. His uncle would embarrass him with advice, but it was different than being in the moment.

Zuko looked at her nervously, giving her an encouraging smile as he leaned in close. He squeezed her hand tight, “A secret joining… of _bodies_ and souls.”


	4. Chapter 4

_“Mmm,”_ Katara hummed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He was barely an inch from her, and something about the glint in his eyes made her insides melt. 

She’d never been nervous before, not really. The pinch of tension she’d felt when she was fourteen and too stupid to know better men existed didn’t count. All the rendezvouses and the random ménage à trois never made her heart leap into her throat. She knew how to please a man… she knew how to please a woman, too. 

But, this was different. Zuko was different. This was going to mean something, start something— it was their marriage and their life together. Zuko wasn’t a lucky warrior she’d invited into her room, he was her husband. 

When he squeezed her hand tighter, Katara had the thought that she wouldn’t be what he wanted. When Zuko bumped her nose with his, Katara had to let go of a shaky breath and pray that she was. 

She closed the short distance between them with a chaste kiss, twisting her fingers up in his hair. “Come on,” she whispered, tugging on his collar. “Come to the bed with me. Let me undress you, let me kiss you… let me be a wife to you.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her warmly, and melted into her kiss, even as his hands trembled. He wondered what she thought of him. He wondered if she felt any attraction towards him, or if this was a chore. Zuko also wondered how she managed to seem so sure of herself. She was admirably confident, but he hadn’t expected it to carry through into the bedroom, not that he minded. It just made him feel like a fool that he was so nervous. 

She pulled them over from the couch to the bed, and Zuko sank down on it anxiously. The bed was soft, and fluffy, and almost like a cloud. He ran his hand over it, feeling the mount of blankets stuffed on it to keep warm. He’d rather just pass out on it right now. He swallowed thickly, not knowing what to do, but wanting desperately to please his new bride. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to at all, it was just that he was not ready right now, at all. His nerves had the better of him, and he had himself thinking all day he had ‘til tomorrow to at least have a few drinks first to calm him down. He was tired from being on that damn ship so long too, and this all was so new, and he’d just met her today, and Zuko dug his fingers into the bed, and gave her a smile as she looked at him. 

He assumed no, because in the Earth Kingdom too, he remembered asking Jin before they did anything if she’d ever had sex, and she told him no– it was frowned upon there, too. That was why they’d only gone so far before both of them pulled apart with too much shame. He was the prince, and they’d persecute him if they’d discovered he was no longer pure to create an heir. Though, funny enough, concubines were no big deal, once you were already wed. Zuko didn’t understand his people and their stigmas, but then again, he didn’t know a damn thing about hers, either. 

He leaned in close to her, moving his gaze to hers. Hers was soft, but had a need in them he hadn’t seen before. He moved one hand to sit atop hers, whispering, “Have… have you done this before?” he asked, what he presumed was rather redundantly. 

* * *

Something heavy settled in her gut as soon as Zuko asked the question. Katara looked at him, her hands pausing over the buttons on his tunic, her head tilted to the side. 

“Does it matter?” she asked, but it dawned on her a second later that it likely did. All his talk about the customs of the Fire Nation, about the stiffness that bled into their ceremonies and stained their lives… he probably expected his wife to a virgin; he might even require it. 

An inexplicable rage flared up in her. Her past should be her own, and her experiences were for herself; they should be safe in her mind. But this Prince— 

Zuko was staring up at her expectantly, patiently, waiting to know if she was unblemished, untouched, so he could be the one to defile her. She no longer gave a damn about world peace. 

“I could name every person I’ve bedded, but we’d be here all night.” Katara moved away from him, settling on her knees on the far side of the bed. “The Water Tribe doesn’t shame such things, so long as marriages are honored, and measures are taken to prevent children. Our bodies are our bodies, and we can do with them as we please.” 

She looked down at the mattress, then her eyes snapped to Zuko sharply. “If you have an issue with my _impurity,_ you may leave. I will not be with a man who thinks he has any ownership over the warmth between my legs.” 

* * *

His face burned with flustered embarrassment. He’d done it, he’d messed up. It was a matter of time. He stumbled with words like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing, but hardly a sound came out. He felt like an undesirable fool now. But, he was also stunned. She’d bedded more than she could count? Before marriage? Did her father know? Did he not care? Did her people not scrutinize her for it? 

She was far off from him now, and panic fell in his chest. He didn’t know how to fix this– this blunder of his. How could he pretend this didn’t shock him, this cultural faux pas. He had to do something to salvage this– anything. Zuko felt humiliated and so undesirable. To her country, it seemed, it was an oddity to not have had sex before marriage. But, he was still trying to get used to the fact that here it was accepted. 

She shouted at him dismissively, and threatened to have him dismissed, and Zuko stood from the bed in desperation. He’d be shunned if he were sent home. His uncle would be disappointed, every sage would be disgusted. He’d be an international embarrassment. His father would be laughing from his jail cell that he knew he was useless all along.  

“Princess Katara, _please_ ,” Zuko urged, walking over before her, ready to get on his knees if he had to. The sages had told him by any means, do not get banished from your location, and do not get divorced, or he could forget ever pleasantly showing his face in the Fire Nation again, no matter what his uncle said. 

“I meant you no disrespect. I am sorry if I’ve offended you,” Zuko pleaded, trying to hope she meant what she said about how what was said in this room stayed between them as husband and wife, but they still hardly knew each other. If she was displeased, she could rid of him in a second, with a wave of her finger. She was the future queen, after all. 

“I- I… I was asking because… because… I haven’t… and… I– I’m nervous… and I thought if you… you hadn’t too, then… I’d be less nervous, but– it- it doesn’t matter to me! I just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m… I’m just a little… I’ve got cold feet, that’s all. You’re… the princess of the Southern Tribe, and now you’re my wife, and I just want to please you. I don’t want to disappoint you, and in the Fire Nation, it’s very important for both men and women to remain pure before marriage, as– as they call it, and now I just feel like a fool because apparently it’s the opposite here… so I… I likely won’t be the best lover… so if it’s customary for royalty to take another, I- I’ll understand, of course– I’m here as penance from my country, so I understand. I don’t know much about your people’s culture on this… topic, evidently. But, I– I can adapt. I’m sorry, Princess Katara,” Zuko rambled, incredibly anxiously in a rushed mantra of desperation, his hands clenched tight. 

“Please forgive me, Princess.”

* * *

Her face must’ve displayed every emotion in a matter of seconds. She went from glaring at him to staring, from staring to an open-mouthed look of surprise… then guilt. 

“Oh, La, I’m so sorry,” Katara gasped, undoing the tight fists she’d made in her dress. She smoothed the fabric, then slipped from the bed. “Prince Zuko, I’m sorry, I misunderstood. Please—”

She touched his arm briefly, unsure if he’d even allow it now. “I thought… well, you’d said so much over dinner about your countrymen valuing rules and rigidity, I assumed you were asking if I’d adhered to the same standards.” 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, I really am,” she urged. “I promised myself when I was a little girl that I’d never let anyone talk down to me. I swore I’d always fight back. But, I should not have jumped to conclusions so quickly.” 

“I hope _you_ can forgive _me,”_ Katara breathed.

* * *

He was simply grateful that her anger had dissipated. He sighed in relief, and gave her a lukewarm smile. “I wouldn’t ever talk down to you, Princess Katara,” Zuko assured her, “I know how that feels. I hate it as well,” he said with a small laugh. “Besides, there’s no reason for someone to be talking down to an intelligent young heiress to the throne of the most powerful country, now is there?” He stated, but his gut was still coiled in anxiety.

“I forgive you, of course, but there is no reason for you to be sorry. I shouldn’t have asked something so personal. I do apologize, Princess Katara,” Zuko spoke again, before forcing himself to timidly meet her gaze.

“You’re right, though, my countrymen are rigid and adhere to strict guidelines… it’s why I ensured I haven’t… had sex until I was married. If someone were to find out, it would cast shame across the entire family and the image of the palace,” Zuko explained. “I had no idea the Water Tribe was so… open, but of— of course I respect it. It will just take getting used to, I’m sure,” he spoke, because he did find it so strange that she was so young, a princess, and they let her bring another to bed every night without shame. Was he another notch in the belt, he wondered? He wondered the value of monagamy in the Water Tribes now. Everything was different here.

“I- I think both are countries value duty, though, and I accepted mine by leaving my home to marry you. I accept all terms for my penance here on behalf of the Fire Nation, and whatever our marriage means. But, I would be a liar if I said I didn’t want it to mean something for not just our peoples, but for _us_ , too.”

* * *

“I do value duty. Very much so,” she agreed quickly, hoping he’d see her sincerity. It was important to her, because her duty tied her to him. And though Katara hoped for love one day, she was dedicated to their marriage no matter its outcome, and she would be for life, so long as the Prince respected and honored her.

Katara needed him to understand this. “I’m still here because I know my duty, Prince Zuko. It’s why I didn’t run when my father told me of the arrangement. It’s why I want to make this marriage a strong one.” 

”And, Prince Zuko,” Katara paused, her breath catching with fresh nerves. It wasn’t often that she was vulnerable. “I value you. I know you’ve come into a situation that is frightening and uneasy. You’ve made a tremendous sacrifice and I know that I’m the only one who can make it better for you.” 

She let a sigh go, looking at him earnestly as she reached for his hand. Their fingers linked and their arms swung slightly in the space between them. “Please believe me when I say that I want you to be happy, as much as I want happiness for myself. Even if we’re never true lovers, even if we’re only ever good friends— I want you to have a fulfilling life here.” 

“Trust me. Please,” Katara coaxed him. “I do not lie.” 

* * *

Zuko glanced at her, letting his walls down if only for just a moment. He was sincerely touched by her words. No one had ever said such sincerely kind things to him. He was moved by her words, and her promises, and he wanted to return the same to her. He didn’t know why the sages had scared the living daylights out of him. Even his uncle hadn’t been very reassuring. Zuko would talk to him about what to expect of his new home, the people there, his new family, and his new wife, and he’d only say “there are sacrifices we must make for our country, Prince Zuko”. Zuko had always taken that as, “they’re right, it’s going to be awful, but deal with it for the nation’s sake”. 

Katara was anything but awful to him, though. She was so kind, and everything he could have hoped for– and more. All he’d hoped for was someone not cruel. She was the opposite. She was so kind, and on top of it, she had a good sense of humor, she was intelligent, and she was breathtakingly beautiful. Zuko counted himself lucky– he wondered if the other suitors were as lucky to be paired with someone so lovely. He wondered if Katara thought highly of her arrangement. He tried not to dwell on that aspect. 

“I believe you,” Zuko whispered with a laugh, and despite himself, he pulled her into his arms into an embrace. His cheeks were warm with a blush, but he held her close, “Thank you, Princess Katara,” Zuko murmured tenderly, his hands on her back, and his head pressed against hers with a deep sigh of relief. “Agni, I want that too… I hope so much I can make you _happy_ – and be a good husband for you, and a good father to any children we may have. That’s all I want.”

* * *

“Children?” Katara laughed, surprised by his sudden affection. She wasn’t unhappy with it, though. She nuzzled closer, bumping his nose. “I think we’ll want to wait for children, don’t you? We should learn about each first, Prince Zuko.”

She untangled herself from his grasp. “We should get through _this week_ first,” Katara murmured quietly, almost despondently, her back to him.

Katara looked over the bed, over the mussed pillows and the ruffled sheets, her heart sinking from her chest. She had an all-but-stranger in her room, an all-but-stranger who’d share her bed. None of it felt warm anymore; none of it special. She’d pictured this moment before and no dream left her wondering where she stood, if she was even wanted.

And he’d broken away from her so fast…

Sighing, Katara ran her fingers across the bed’s furs, then faced him again. “I’ll sleep in the nursery,” she told him. “You take this room. There’s a bath attached just over there.”

* * *

Zuko was shocked when she acted so surprised to hear him speak of children. That was the whole purpose of their marriage– to make an heir. Maybe that was different here, too. In the Fire Nation, they were expected to have a child, and produce heirs as soon as their wedding night. Katara spoke as if they could be patient. “Yes, yes– one thing at a time,” Zuko agreed with a small, tired smile as they pulled apart. 

But then she turned from him, looking dour, and Zuko wondered if he’d said something that hurt her, or maybe the embrace was too forward. “Princess Katara…” Zuko spoke, longing to comfort her the way she had comforted him all evening amidst his anxieties. “Are you alright?” Zuko asked quietly. He almost apologized, but stopped himself as he remembered her pleading with him not to.

He tilted his head when she spoke, confused. She’d gone on and on about how they were to consummate their marriage, and be together, and then she spoke of leaving. He was terribly worried about what he’d done, then. “That’s not right. I can’t do that. If– If you’re uncomfortable with me in here so soon, then I should go to the other room. This is your room. I’m a stranger here, not you. This has always been your home. I- I don’t mind going elsewhere, Princess Katara, really. Please don’t feel like you must leave your own bedroom,” Zuko urged gently, his hand on her forearm. 

“I… I hope I haven’t upset you, Princess Katara. That… that was the least of my intentions.”

* * *

“You don’t know the palace like I do, Prince Zuko. I can’t expect you to sleep somewhere other than the room given to you.” She squirmed slightly under his gaze, looking from the floor to the bed and back to him.

He wore a taut expression, his face showing every bit of worry that he’d done something to anger her. She tried to smile. She couldn’t make it reach her eyes, but Katara still tried.

“I’m alright,” she said, laying a hand on his bicep. “I promise, okay? We don’t have to do anything more tonight… and uh— oh, I can work on your hearing and eyesight, if you’d like, either now or in the morning. But, I’ll give you space, okay?”

* * *

“Princess Katara…” Zuko began, confused. Would she be in trouble if they didn’t consummate their marriage? Would he? Would all the palace gossip and think something was wrong if she left her bedroom? –Without him? Zuko worried over it all. He was scared to sleep beside her, but even more scared to spend the night alone in this castle. 

“Wh–Whatever makes you most comfortable, Princess Katara,” Zuko agreed quietly, unsure of what to do or say. He would just go with what she wanted, he decided. That would be best. He didn’t quite believe her when she said she was okay, but she likely didn’t want him of all people pressing her about it, so he dropped it, and grew quiet. 

“I… I don’t need space, if that’s what you were worried about,” he assured her. “But, if you would like some, then of course- whatever makes you comfortable, Princess Katara,” Zuko tried to please her. “There’s no rush on me. I’ve been half deaf and blind for ten years now,” Zuko teased exaggeratedly with a laugh. “If… if you are going to go off, then… goodnight, Princess Katara. I… what time should I be awake and ready? Where should I be off to?”

* * *

She shrugged; the air had grown stiff and thick with the smiles and nervous laughs gone. “It doesn’t matter, whenever you normally wake, as long as it’s not too late.”

Katara left him by the bed and gathered a few of her things, a robe and clothes for the morning among them. A glimpse of her reflection in the vanity showed a tight expression. Her lips were a flat line, her eyes looked tired. It couldn’t even be midnight, she mused silently.

But the night had worn on her, and with her best efforts to hide it, Katara still felt haggard as she bundled her garments in her arms. “I’ll be across the hall… just straight across, if you need me.”

“Whenever you’re up, come wake me, or I’ll sleep the day away,” Katara half laughed, but it died in her throat quickly. “Um… yeah, we have the ceremony, so I need to be up…”

She went to her bedroom door, pulling it open to be met by the two guards that were always posted in the hall. A glance flicked between them; her cheeks flushed with undeniable shame.

Katara could read their judgment: _this wouldn’t bode well for the marriage, the treaty._ She tried to hide her worries, and looked back at her husband.

“Goodnight, Prince Zuko.”

* * *

Everything felt as cold as the snow outside them, between them, now. Zuko nodded, feeling small and unsure again. Despite her reassurances, Zuko was certain he had done something that upset her and changed things between them. He shouldn’t have asked her that. He should have just sucked it up, and fucked her like he was supposed to– like the treaty all but said. She was ready, so he should’ve gotten over it. He was being a baby. Now, he’d ruined things. 

All Zuko could do was nod quietly as he watched her pack from her own room to go to another. It felt wrong. He should be the one leaving, not her. She’d grown up in here– and now he was invading it and throwing her out? It was like what his people had done in the colonies. Zuko sighed shakily, “Goodnight, Katara,” he whispered, watching as she closed the door behind her, and Zuko could already hear the gossip. They’d talk about his family, his legacy, his scar, how he wasn’t good enough for their princess, and they’d talk about his country, and his horrors, and sending him back, and how he’d failed their princess and the treaty, and hence the world. Zuko wished he could disagree. 

He nervously sat in silence, and all he could hear was the ticking of the clock. Everything was silent out here. Even the fire had gone out, and he was too scared to use firebending to revive it. Did they hate firebending here, like the sages said? They told him it brought out bad memories, and never to do it unless he wanted enemies down there. He wanted to warm up the fire. The room was cold, and the snow surrounding the palace made things silent at night. 

He could hear his heartbeat, and when he swallowed thickly. He just sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness. He felt afraid and alone. He wanted his uncle, his own bed, his blankets, his pictures, his cousin. He wanted the heat and the sunshine. He wanted to go home. He felt like a child, but he wanted to go home. Everything was intimidating, even as he stared out at the wall for so long he grew thirsty. He was too afraid to even fetch a cup of water. 

Anxiety plagued him, he worried what he did to Katara, and what the consequences would be– would they send him back? He worried about pleasing her, and being miserable here despite her promises, and he worried about the wedding ceremony, and the judgment from the tribe, and he worried about her people hating him, and he worried about being lonely, and he worried about failing the world. 

Zuko’s hands trembled as he walked to the corner where his bag was stowed. He pulled out a pair of pajamas, and it was cold without the fire. He shakily changed into them, but put his coat back on. When he climbed into the bed, he felt like an intruder. He was so anxious, his stomach in knots, but he was also exhausted to the point where he couldn’t keep his eyes open. This was the first night in months he wouldn’t be sleeping with a creek of a ship. A part of him missed it. At least the shipmates were company- friendly company he could trust, his uncle’s men. 

Zuko didn’t know who he could trust here. He hadn’t seen his family in three months and it was already a lifetime. What if he was never permitted home again? They could do that. The thought terrified him, and a tear rolled down Zuko’s cheek, and soon another, until he was quietly crying as they night went on, and fears plagued him. He stared out the window all night, numb to the tears as the sun rose over the freshly-fallen snow.

Zuko sat up, and changed into the clothes Katara had set out for him, though it was far too early to wake her. His stomach rattled in hunger, and he had no clue how to do his hair for this– the wedding– the most important day of his life. He was so nervous he could hurl, and he was too nervous to fetch his wife, either. Zuko prodded at the fire, looking for matches, and glancing behind him to decide whether or not he should go out the door. 

* * *

The bed she slept in was small and narrow, but Katara curled up beneath a pile of furs and drifted off quickly. She was exhausted, and even more so when she woke, startled by a dream about blue-eyed babies breathing fire in the sky.

Katara stared at the nursery’s ceiling, where delicate snowflakes had been painted, and tried to calm herself. But, it only settled in her bones that no child had ever seen this room, because it used to be her brother’s room. The nursery was just built when her engagement was announced.

She sighed wearily and kicked the blankets off. The room was chilly with no fire; the silk she slept in didn’t warm her much. Katara tugged her robe on quickly and ruffled around the pile of clothes for her tunic and leggings. 

The loud snap of the tailor made her stop. “What do you mean she’s not taking visitors? I have final measurements to take!” 

One of her guards said something, Katara couldn’t make it out, but she knew he was lying for her. Saving her the shame. Protecting her honor. Thinking of the treaty. 

_Fuck the treaty._ She’d probably wrecked it all now— if only she’d been meek and sweet, if only she’d lied to the Prince; she’d still be her room, then. 

Katara gathered as much dignity as she could and left the nursery, a fierce glare shutting the tailor up before the woman could disturb any other part of the palace. 

“If you’ll allow me one moment, Kasha, I will ensure my husband is awake and ready for you.”  She gave Kasha another silencing look, then knocked on her own bedroom door and went inside. 

The handle clicked shut behind her, allowed Katara a moment to breathe, before she noticed Zuko in front of the cold fireplace. 

“You’re allowed to bend, Prince Zuko” she grumbled, still on edge from the confrontation in the hall. She knew the rumors that would float around, about how her husband didn’t want her or maybe she couldn’t please a man; it’d be her fault. 

Katara pushed it away and made herself smile, “Did you sleep alright? How long have you been awake?” 

* * *

Zuko was startled by the rattling at the door. It was Princess Katara– his fiancée? No, his wife. Zuko gripped the matches tighter as she came through the door, and looked at him. He met her gaze briefly, before turning it away in shame. He was surprised she didn’t mind if he firebended. That was one of the biggest no-no’s the sages gave him. Don’t firebend, it’ll remind them of the war, and who your family is, and what you are to them– that fire you bend has killed their loved ones.

Zuko looked between her and his hand hesitantly before warily sprouting a flame. He placed the flame from his palm over the logs, watching as they caught fire slowly, and sighing in relief as he felt the warmth radiating off the fire against his face. He held his hands out to warm them, his eyes closed, as he still knelt before the fire in his parka. 

He hadn’t slept a wink. He was exhausted from head-to-toe, and worried about his appearance at the wedding. He’d tried to sleep, but it was to no avail. She seemed angry, still, with him, and Zuko didn’t know what to do to rectify whatever had caused this rift between them so abruptly. He feared he’d done too little, too late. Or maybe, now reality was setting in, that she had a loser warlord’s son for a husband, and she was upset he’d snatched her chances of marrying someone she loved. 

Zuko wondered all the talk and gossip the servants must have about him. They probably whispered about how he wasn’t a fit match for a princess of Katara’s caliber, and Zuko hated that he agreed. 

“I slept well,” Zuko lied, and the dark circles under his eyes gave way. “I’ve only been up a few minutes,” Zuko lied again, but the puffiness in his eyes gave that away too. “What about you, Princess Katara? Did you sleep well? I’m… I’m sorry you weren’t in your own room. I hope you got a good night’s rest, anyway.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Weird dreams, but other than that…” Katara trailed off, leaving the doorway. She approached the hearth and perched on the sofa, patting the sofa to signal that he could sit if he wanted. 

Zuko did, and with him so close, she noticed the redness that rimmed his gold eyes, the shadows on his cheeks. Katara sighed, “I should’ve gotten you some chamomile tea or something. You didn’t sleep a wink, did you?” 

She couldn’t do anything for his weariness now— they had a day of festivities ahead. However, she could assuage the symptoms. Katara drew water to her fingertips and cupped his face delicately.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, healing the bruises beneath his eyes. “I wasn’t in my room, but at least I’m in a familiar place…” 

“That used to be my brother’s room,” she told him, surprising herself with the quiet admission. Katara harbored the death of Sokka and her mother close to her chest, rarely bringing attention to their absence other than to hug her father when she noticed his face falling and his eyes glazing over. 

The Prince had the appearance of someone who’d understand, though. One evening with him and she knew he wouldn’t push her if she didn’t want to be pushed; he’d listen, console, and let the subject go. Zuko was what she needed, in that regard.

“Sokka and I had sleepovers had kids, almost every night. We were inseparable, right up until he died.” Katara moved her fingers up Zuko’s left cheek. 

The purple circles were gone, but she meant to learn what she could about his nerve damage and hearing loss before the tailor came into their room. She closed her eyes as she drew the water across his skin. 

“He called waterbending _‘magic water’_ because I was the first bender born in nearly a hundred years,” Katara laughed breathily, “but he loved it when I made snowflakes fall from the ceiling… which is why I had the painters cover the nursery in them.” 

* * *

Zuko watched her tentatively as her fingers met his skin, and he leaned in intrinsically to her touch. He let out a shaky sigh, and felt the relief of her healing hand. It was incredible how the puffiness dissipated instantly. Zuko wondered how she learned this craft, without a teacher. She was the last water bender in a hundred years here. That fact alone made guilt tug in his chest.

Zuko wondered what it would be like to be close to your sibling. He worried over Azula alone in the Earth Kingdom, But there was no reason for him to. If anyone could handle themselves, it was Azula. She would likely overtake the entire kingdom by daybreak, and he worried then more for the prince of the Earth Kingdom. Azula would upkeep the treaty though. She lived to do everything to perfection for what was expected of her.

Regardless of Azula’s horrid treatment of him, he still didn’t know what he would do if something happened to her. He moved his hand to rest chastely, but comfortingly, over Katara’s knee. “Your brother would be proud of you,” Zuko assured her in a tender whisper. “You’ve done so much,” he spoke.

“The snowflakes are beautiful… as silly as it sounds, I have never seen anything like it,” he admitted with a shrug and warm chuckle. “Your brother sounds like he was a great man. I wish I could have known him… I’m so sorry he isn’t with us. But, I promise you, he would be so proud of all you’re doing for your people— and your father… the world.”

* * *

“I know,” Katara said, pride taking over her melancholy look. “He was always negotiating trades and treaties. He is most of the reason the North and South are acting as sister tribes, again. I think he’d be happy to know that I played a part in a treaty, too.”

She smiled, then grew quiet. Her fingers traced Zuko’s cheek bone, then his eyelid, then the shell of his ear. Katara could feel the broken nerve endings, but there wasn’t much she could to heal them without manipulating Zuko’s blood. She doubted he’d trust her enough for that— _ever_ — so she didn’t broach the subject.

“I think pain management is the best I can offer for now,” she said, instead. “I’m sorry… if I’d been around when it happened… well, there’s no sense in dwelling on impossibilities, is there?”

Katara dropped her hand back to her lap, a sadness glazing over in her eyes. She wondered if anything _real_ between them was an impossibility, too. So much of her felt like it.

But there wasn’t much time to ponder it. The tailor knocked and Katara called the woman in, leaving the couch. Kasha ordered her to strip to her undergarments and a number of measurements were taken. Then, she repeated the process for Zuko, marking down things on a piece of parchment.

“Do you have any final requests,” Kasha asked, still scribbling away.

Katara pulled her robe back on, nodding, “I want red incorporated into both our garments. This is a joining of two nations— I don’t _own_ the Prince, so I won’t have it seem like I do. I’d like a few touches from his homeland brought into what we wear.”

“Yes, Princess,” the tailor sounded annoyed, most likely at the time crunch, “I will be back in an hour to help you both dress.”

* * *

With her discussion of the north, he wanted to broach the topic of the horrid crimes they were committing on his people. He was afraid, however, and then he was ashamed because his people were counting on him; that should matter more than anything, more than his silly fears and doubts. They were being looted, abused, murdered, beaten, kidnapped, and raped. He was afraid of rejection? He couldn’t be.

But, she distracted him when she touched his face so tenderly. Her hands moved all over his scar, and he had never let anyone touch him like that before, nor had anyone even tried. He wondered why she wasn’t afraid. He wondered how she wasn’t disgusted.

But before he could worry himself in that, the tailor came in with their wedding apparel and a cart full of supplies. Zuko smiled at the woman and bowed to her. He wanted to make a point to be kind to everyone in her tribe, no matter their role or status. He wondered if class was as disproportionate and severed here as it was in the Fire Nation. In the Fire Nation, a noble wouldn’t be caught dead mingling with a peasant. Zuko hated that.

Katara was likely curious about his scar and Zuko didn’t know if there would ever be a time he would tell her. She wouldn’t be as harsh as some of the gawkers, he was sure. But, he still feared her reaction nonetheless, and he didn’t want to go looking for pity. Zuko loathed pity. He _hated_ the condescending stares of apology.

What he didn’t hate was the sight of his new wife’s skin. She was beautiful, curvaceous and toned, well built with a slender frame and wide hips and a full bottom and bosom. His eyes trailed her frame in spite of himself as the tailor had Zuko strip, too. His body rattled with abhorrent scarring, and a heart that matched.

The tailor worked at their wedding attire for a while before asking Katara for any last requests, and Zuko stayed quiet. To him, it was hardly his wedding. He was a pawn in hers. He had no say, it was all to her culture. It didn’t even feel like a wedding to him because of all the ones he had been to, none were like this. That didn’t make it invalid or unimportant, he knew, but he would be a liar if he said he never had a daydream of running off with Jin and marrying her— for them, because they were in love and wanted to. Zuko wondered if Katara had ever been in love. Did he take that away from her? He had loved Jin, but never told her. He didn’t know if Jin ever loved him, either. He doubted it.

Zuko was shaken from his thoughts when his wife spoke. Or, what he was pretty sure was his wife. He looked at her in sheer surprise as a smile crept slowly on his face and he took her hand. “Thank you,” Zuko murmured, his chest warming with a tender gratitude. Katara didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to incorporate his culture. His culture, to her people, was the war and the enemy— blood, burning, death, destruction. But, she wanted it in her wedding, on public display. She didn’t care who his grandfather was, she was giving him a chance. He should be more trusting, even if it was hard and he kept a guarded heart.

“You didn’t have to do that, Princess Katara,” he told her, meeting her gaze with a touched warmth, remembering her words- she didn’t own him. He was relieved to hear she didn’t think so because if she so wanted she could act as though she did, and the sages convinced him she so would. She was treating him with more dignity and respect than any sage had, even as he was a prince to them. He was seeing the light about the mannerisms of his royal palace more and more often. “It means a lot to me, though. It means more than you know.”

* * *

“Of course,” Katara answered, tying her robe shut against the chilled air as she turned to face her husband. “I want you, and my Tribe, to know that where you have come from is important. I don’t expect you to forget what made you who you are.” 

She smiled and climbed onto her bed. It was warmer there, with blankets to wrap around her body. Katara tucked her bare feet under her bottom and nodded at the fire. “Can you build that up anymore? Or just… come keep me warm…” 

Katara blushed and buried her face in the furs she had up around her shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t mean— well, I did, but— you can stay there, if you want,” she stammered. “I’ll be warm in a bit.” 

“All my life I’ve lived here, but you never really get used to the chill that hits your skin every time you undress,” she laughed. “I should’ve made the tailor wait until the fire had a bit to heat the room.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her hopefully, and felt the courage to ask her a question he’d been dying to– but was terrified of the answer. “Will… Will I ever be permitted to visit the Fire Nation?” Zuko asked as he still knelt by the fire, his thumb rolling over the set of matches nervously. Fire comforted him, despite his shaky relationship with it. “It– It’s all right if… if I can’t… I just… I was wondering, and I know… I can’t right away, of course, but… someday…” he whispered, looking at the dwindling ember, and his heart _ached_ with the thought of never feeling the warm breeze again against the lake beside palm trees, and sitting out on the porch in the warmth of the spring, drinking tea with his uncle and cousin. But, that was what the sages said to prepare for. They told him to say goodbye because unless his uncle and cousin came to him, he’d never see them again- and he’d never see the Fire Nation again. 

He watched as she climbed onto the big bed he’d lied in sleeplessly all night, and smiled at her as she spoke to him, piquing his interest. “Of course, Princess Katara,” Zuko agreed, making the fire roar with a blow of his hand, and then taming it a little, but still keeping it burning. He smiled a bit proudly at it. He was a talented firebender. He wasn’t his sister, but he was better than his cousin. His uncle would whisper that to him within teasing earshot of Lu Ten when they would spar together. 

He stood, nodding in agreement, though he felt stiff as he walked over to join her on the bed. He wondered if it would have been warmer if they were together, and he wondered if he would have slept, or if he would have just been up with self-consciousness. “It was freezing,” agreed Zuko as he sat atop the bed beside her, not knowing what exactly she wanted. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold,” he said with a laugh. “Though, us firebenders have an adaption for it… we can warm our blood, our bodies… but only so much. My blood’s still thin, and I’m used to the tropics. This is the _polar_ opposite,” he teased, shaking his head, “Sorry, that was a bad joke. My uncle is wearing off on me.”

* * *

Katara smiled, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t be so self-conscious, Prince Zuko. You’re actually kind of funny… puns are my favorite,” she encouraged him.

“Which means… whenever you do go home, you’ll have to bring me. I’d to hear what else Fire Lord Iroh has up his sleeve,” she teased, looking at him hopefully. She was trying, really trying, to make him comfortable and happy, but she meant it. Katara put it more bluntly, “If you want to visit the Fire Nation, I won’t stop you. You’re free to go wherever you want.” 

She watched the brightest smile appear on his face, and Katara was left with an abrupt, sinking feeling. Maybe he had someone else. She hadn’t even considered that, but now it seemed so silly of her to have never thought he might love another. 

Katara retracted her hand. She was going to lay it on his leg, maybe move closer, snuggle up and kiss him again— she still had her marriage and the spirits to honor, after all— but everything felt wrong. 

The thought crossed her mind that the spirts would annul this marriage by the end of the week and Katara swallowed, “I shouldn’t be so presumptuous… I’ll stay here. I’m sure my father will need me and I don’t want to detract from whoever you’ll be visiting.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled at her compliment. No one– _no one_ – had ever called him funny before. He blushed and leaned against her, almost happy. “Well, if puns are your favorite, I should say we’ll have a great marriage,” retorted Zuko with a lopsided smile, and it only grew when she mentioned taking her with him to visit his uncle. His cheeks glowed, and his eyes brightened like he’d slept twelve hours instead of zero. 

“You mean it?” Zuko asked excitedly, smiling from ear-to-ear, but one side extended more than the other. Zuko laughed with giddy, childlike excitement. He wanted to laugh in the sages’ faces when they saw him home again after all their talk of how he’d never get to return. “You’ll love my uncle,” Zuko insisted. “He’s a good man. He believes in bringing peace to the world, he really does,” Zuko persisted. 

He was actually happy now, not almost happy. He was happy. Knowing that he could go home without worry made relief pour over him. He thought he was never going to feel the sunshine of Ember Island again, or wade in its blue waters. Now that he knew he could– he would– he felt so much lighter. 

But, he looked at her quizzically when she spoke again, seemingly downtrodden. “No, no, I’d like you to come,” Zuko urged, “If you would want to,” he added, not wanting to seem pushy. “I would love for you to come, Princess Katara. I would love to introduce my uncle and cousin to my beautiful wife,” he said teasingly. “I would love to show you around my country… maybe one day we can go to my family’s shore house on Ember Island. It’s beautiful there… and warm– super warm,” he explained. “If you’d like to go, I’d love to have you with me.”

* * *

“Okay,” Katara nodded, trying to hide how halfhearted it felt. “I- I might like _warm.”_ She was wary now. She didn’t know anything about the people he had at home, and she was nervous that she’d fall for him, just to have her heart broken. 

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d loved someone who was emotionally unavailable… her thoughts drifted off, running rampant with all the different paths her marriage could take. 

Katara knew about the concubines kept by royal men in the Fire Nation. The Water Tribe didn’t practice such things, but if it was so customary for men in Zuko’s homeland, she reasoned one or two women kept for him wouldn’t do any harm. Whatever made him happiest _here,_ with her, even if their marriage wasn’t what brought him joy. 

Her heart sunk right out of her chest with that, but a knock on the door cut off any more private musings. Katara slipped out of bed and let the tailor back in; Kasha was flanked by a few handmaidens, and before Katara could protest, she and Zuko were pulled to separate rooms to be readied for the morning’s ceremony. 

* * *

Zuko looked at her with worry, wondering if he’d said something, or perhaps she was afraid to go to the Fire Nation. “Princess Katara…” Zuko muttered, hesitantly putting a gentle hand on her wrist, but when she looked up, it was interrupted by the rapping at the door. Kasha, the seamstress, was there, and she was in a rush. She was urgently calling at them to start preparing for their ceremony, and she hailed in a few other tailors to get busy. One of them grabbed Zuko by the arm and tugged him off to another room to do him up for the wedding. 

The room was full of all sorts of accessories and articles of clothing, and the women picked at him bit by bit to make sure he was done just so. They did his hair extravagantly in a traditional, Water Tribe style, and adorned his clothes with red ornaments at Katara’s request, which made his heart warm, and brought a smile to his lips. The clothes were deep shades of navy blue, and there were many layers, each of which was to protect from the cold, and each represented something, as well. 

He wondered what Katara would look like. In the Fire Nation, brides wore extravagant, pink dresses with a light veil and red undertones. He wondered how different things would be. He wondered how this ceremony would go. The tailors hardly spoke to him, and he wondered if they feared him due to his heritage. He didn’t say anything, either though. He was afraid to say something wrong, so he kept quiet and did as instructed. 

He was nervous as a cat as he stood by the door of the presumably-large room, not having an inkling of what to expect. They had rehearsals in the Fire Nation. Here, they were just throwing him out on there to figure it out, like teaching a kid to swim by throwing them in the water. Zuko took a deep breath, and prayed to Agni he wouldn’t fuck up.


	6. Chapter 6

The ceremonies in the morning were hardly any different than the banquets at night. All that changed was the level of formality. Guests and dignitaries were expected to dress well, the food was finer, there wasn’t any drink or dancing, but the air of familiarity and warmth still hung around them all. 

Katara was ushered in by her grandmother. Pakku was already waiting at the head table, trying to get in a word with Zuko, who looked nervous and stiff as a frozen seal. She gave her grandfather a look, then took her seat next to the Prince. 

Gran-Gran fussed over her midnight blue gown for a moment, situating the train and making final adjustments to Katara’s hair. The Princess had to shoo the woman away, smiling and teary-eyed of course. Right now, All she wanted was an hour with her grandmother; maybe the woman could impart some advice. 

Katar had to be doing something wrong. Her father was going to sense it; he would annul the marriage and the treaty would be over. If he didn’t detect it— her gaze found Kasha in the audience, and she wondered if the tailor had mentioned anything. Katara knew her guards wouldn’t, as she’d made it clear at their time of hire what she would do if they double-crossed her.

Still, she was trembling like a feather in the wind throughout the meal, saying a total of three words to her husband, and only a handful more to her father. He didn’t seem to eye her any differently, but he was always diplomatic at such gatherings. 

When Hakoda stood, addressing the crowd, Katara fought the need to hurl. 

“Brothers and sisters,” he captured silence, “you know why we are here on this lovely morning: my daughter and my son-in-law have embarked on a journey, the greatest and the hardest any of us could walk. Let us bless them—”

Hakoda signaled for them both to stand and join him at the front of the dais. When they did, he had them kneel, and he dipped his fingers in a jar of dyed clay, marking their foreheads with Water Tribe runes.  

“The spirits have given you _passion_ , to face this first day together and this lifetime ahead.” 

* * *

Zuko was nervous as the stern man threatened him about treating his granddaughter right. Zuko just nodded affirmatively with shaky agreements and silent promises. He wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt her anyway. He never intentionally wanted to hurt anyone, not even his sick and twisted father. But, it’s not like Pakku knew that, he just loved Katara, and was probably wary of any man to marry her, let alone some strange, Fire Nation man he’d never met. Zuko didn’t blame him, but it didn’t make him feel any better about whatever was about to happen here. 

He was shaky as he sat beside his wife, and took her hand. She also seemed nervous now, and he wished he could do something to comfort her, as she tried so hard to make him feel better yesterday. He gave her hand a squeeze, smiling at both the chief and his daughter as he spoke. He tried to pay attention to the way the crowd took him in, the manner in which he spoke, and everything about the evening. Maybe it would give him better insight to their culture, so he could immerse himself in it. 

Zuko stood when cued to, and looked nervously to his wife who just nodded. Hakoda dipped his hand in the jar of mashed clay, and marked his forehead. Zuko looked at Katara’s head from the corner of his eye so he could see the icon marked on her. It was a strange symbol he didn’t recognize, but he bowed in gratitude all the same– the mark of _passion_. He could guess what that meant, but he’d only guess in his head. Zuko bowed again to the chief and looked back at his wife, bowing to her– awaiting her signal for what in the hell he was to do next.

* * *

_Passion_. It had to be a joke. Her father had heard from Kasha or one of the guards. Maybe her grandmother had guessed it, giving Katara’s less than vibrant demeanor. They were poking fun at her or playing a prank— embarrassing her in front of the entire tribe for her failure as a wife.

Katara couldn’t even look at her father. She couldn’t look at her husband or her family. Her eyes stayed on the hall’s wooden floors as she stood, as the guests saw them out, even as she and Zuko were ushered into a sleigh and her family waved them off.

But, as the wind picked up around them and they pulled away from the city center, Katara could sense Zuko’s gaze on her. He had to have a million questions: where they were going, what they were doing, what the hell the ceremony was all about.

She swallowed her own embarrassment and looked at him. “Do you remember me telling you about the marriage hut?” Katara asked. “How the villagers would band together to build the newlyweds a home and give them furs and game to start their new life? We still honor that tradition.”

The sleigh was further from the city by then, out in the peaceful snowdrifts. Katara pointed out a brown, fur-lined hut in the middle of the plain, and as they neared it, she went on.

“This was the last one built,” she explained. “The couple has since moved on; with kids and such, they needed a bigger home. Plus, the war ended, so that took a large financial strain off the South. We don’t need a village to build homes anymore.”

The sleigh approached and slowed, and the driver helped them down before waving goodbye. They were left standing in the freshly fallen snow, their breath puffing up in white clouds. A flush spread across Katara’s cheeks.

“It— it’s refurbished… with new blankets and bedding and the sort… we would’ve come here last night. The first banquet is supposed to be the start, but, uh—“ she shrugged, shifting nervously. “I-I asked my father if we could stay in the palace for our first night. I was… scared, honestly. I wanted to be somewhere I felt safe…. we’ll go back to to the city every morning and evening, for a blessing and banquet,” she went on, rolling her eyes. “They like to make sure the newlyweds _take a break_ to eat, but I’m sure _we_ won’t have any issue remembering our dinner.”

* * *

Zuko was confused at the abruptness of the meeting. They seemed to be in the door, and out in a matter of less than an hour. That couldn’t have been their wedding ceremony… was it? Zuko didn’t know what to think, but he knew what to say: nothing, at least not about that. He just followed the princess out into the sleigh. He’d never been in a sleigh before, and it was kind of exciting, but he bit his tongue on that comment as well because Katara was staring off, almost angrily, lost in thought. He didn’t want to open whatever can of worms she was storing right then.

The wind was fierce as it beat down against them as they rode off and polar bear dogs pulled the sleigh. Zuko wrapped his scarf around himself tighter, covering his mouth and nose, and his face was red from windburn as ice pelted at his face in the breeze. Katara hardly seemed to notice it, but Zuko was rocking himself to keep warm, his arms wrapped around himself tightly, wondering where in Agni’s name they were going– why– and what was happening. A part of him was afraid, and all of him was intimidated. He tried to remember his sages’ words of wisdom- to sit tight, and do as he was told. But, right now, he wished he had his uncle’s words of wisdom because they’d likely be from a much warmer place.

Katara finally spoke, and he didn’t know how she was talking with the wind. She was loud, but must’ve been used to it as she held onto her hood, and Zuko could only nod at what she said. He was too cold to think, and too worried to speak. He heard something about the huts, and remembering her discussing how there were many nights of bonding to be done there during the wedding, which meant fucking. He only gave himself until today to prepare anyway, but that didn’t help with the summersaults his stomach was doing now. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be freezing cold. He didn’t want to literally freeze his ass off.

Zuko was glad to be out of the sleigh, and the hut was much larger than he anticipated. Katara walked him through, and at least there was a fireplace– they could be warm. He felt incredibly nervous then, cooped up with a stranger with so much expectation on their shoulders. At least she was kind– he couldn’t imagine this scenario with a cruel woman that the sages had prepared him for. 

“It– It’s a nice home,” Zuko replied, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and dying to go inside, and finally Katara walked them in where Zuko could see that it was even larger from the inside. It was done up with many furs, and there was even a little space to cook, and a sofa by the fire, and a nice, big, warm bed. Zuko rushed to the fireplace where logs were already placed and he instantly lit them on fire with a laugh that showed as fog in the cold air. 

“I don’t blame you. I was scared last night too,” Zuko admitted. He didn’t sleep a wink, and now he was exhausted. He was nervous to sleep out in the middle of nowhere like this. Weren’t there animals? At least they’d go back for food and the like– and it was only for the week, though the Southern Water Tribe tundras were for life. He had no idea how anyone could survive here so long, let alone thrive. The thought made Zuko reflectively grow an even deeper admiration for her people– now _his_ people.

“I hope you’re okay, Princess Katara. You seemed upset, if you don’t mind my saying so. If… If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable or all right, or… whatever– please tell me. You’ve done so much trying to make me feel safe and welcome… this is a marriage, and a partnership– so… talk to me, too. We need to have a two-way street.”

* * *

“I was scared _of you_ ,” Katara grumbled, all but ignoring his sweeter sentiment of this being a partnership. She was overwhelmed, and it boiled to the surface.

“I don’t know you. I’d never even met you, but I was expected to sleep in the same room and the same bed and I- I—“ Katara brought her hand up to her lips, swallowing as tears filled her eyes and made the hut blur.

She turned away from Zuko, trying to focus on the bed as she blinked rapidly. Her efforts were for naught, because she spotted a handmade quilt with red and blue interwoven and she knew it was a gift from her grandmother. Kanna had such faith in her, _in them._ Katara was failing everyone.

“I tried so hard yesterday,” she whispered, still unsettled, still fighting so she wouldn’t cry in from of her new husband. “I tried to do everything that was expected of me. I was kind and helpful and _flirtatious_ , even though I was terrified of the man I was marrying. I even realized that I might actually like you… I might enjoy you… but, now I’m scared I won’t be able to make this work. I’m scared I won’t make _us_ work.”

* * *

Zuko glanced up at her in surprise at her honesty. He softened at it, which took him even more by surprise. In the beginning, such a statement would have made him recoil and act even meeker, as he was instructed. He would have felt like the monster he was told he would be perceived as by the sages. He stayed by the fire, that was comforting. The fire meant warmth, home, his uncle, his cousin, comfort. 

“I don’t blame you,” Zuko finally replied. “I’m the grandson of a warmonger who wrought terror all over your homeland. Who _wouldn’t_ be afraid?” Zuko asked, shaking his head. “I was shocked the treaty happened… my uncle came up to me, and he tried to explain things all calm, like he does… like he did when the war ended… like there’s any calm way to tell your nephew you murdered your father and put your brother in jail after nearly murdering him… but welcome to my family,” Zuko said with a dark chuckle that was deeply drenched in sarcasm. 

“I remember… I was reading a book, some old book on the history of firebending practices before the war. It was probably propaganda… all pre-war books were burned,” Zuko whispered, “We can’t have any knowledge of the Fire Nation’s wealth without war, and peaceful commerce and trading internationally circulating… now can we?” Zuko rambled, unsure of how long this newfound courage would last him. “My uncle said, ‘Prince Zuko, there’s been a wonderful deal reached to help smooth out the peace process!’, and I think, something really bad must’ve happened because he’s got a tray full of cookies and my favorite tea on there,” Zuko went on, “And, he tells me all about how wonderful your people are, and how kind they are, and how happy I’ll be there in this land of ice and snow, on the bottom of the world away from everything I know and everyone I love,” Zuko whispered. 

“I just said it sounded great, when he finished trying to sugarcoat it. What could I say? He had to send a male of royal kin. He wasn’t sending his only, beloved son. It was my selfish desire or the world’s,” Zuko stated, “I’m sure you understand that… you’re in the same boat, pretty much,” he whispered. “So… I packed my things, a little of them, mostly souvenirs and such,” Zuko relayed, “I didn’t have any of the right garments, so what’s the use in packing all that? I wore my crown… a little stubbornly,” he admitted. “I knew it’d be taken right off though.”

“I was prepped for months to come here… they told me how to speak, what to say… I’ve got a quick temper, Princess Katara, believe it or not,” he said with a smirk, “They all but beat it out of me… it’s hard to put out a firebender’s flame, but I guess mine’s an ember now. They said I had to be meek… follow the rules… don’t question anything. They said women in the Water Tribes were different than our women… they said you were cold, cruel, aloof, and acted without heart,” Zuko confessed, “I see nothing but the stellar, polar opposite. You’ve got more heart than three _fourths_ the people I know. So do your people…”

“I was terrified of you too, Princess Katara,” Zuko admitted, then. “I’m less now, but still I’m extremely anxious… I’m just glad you aren’t cruel,” Zuko said with a laugh, “They had me expecting to be locked off in a tower or something,” he teased, shaking his head, “I hate them, honestly,” he added. “But, I’m still afraid… I don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse, but I hope it makes you feel better, because hearing that you’re afraid too is the only reason I’ve had the guts to ramble on like this, but I’m also rambling because I’m so nervous, Princess Katara, and as you’ll learn, a nervous habit of mine is to go on and on without stopping because when I stop then I’ll have to bear the reaction of the person listening and what they’ll have to say,” Zuko rattled out with a laugh.

“I like you too, Princess Katara,” Zuko spoke after a beat of quiet and a crack in the wood from the flames. “Who wouldn’t? You’re kind, caring, intelligent, and beautiful. That much I’ve gathered already, but I bet there’s even more… I feel… I really feel blessed to have you as my wife,” Zuko explained, poking at the fire with one of the sticks absentmindedly– another nervous habit. “But… I cried last night too. I stared at the ceiling and wished I was at home. I wanted to go see my uncle, and my cousin, and… my dragon… I have a dragon named Druk… I miss him,” Zuko said with a warm laugh. “I even miss my crewmates,” he admitted. “I was so scared last night I couldn’t sleep… and I don’t know what to expect of us… I don’t even know what marriage is like here… I still have to question whether we’re married yet or not,” he said, shaking his head at himself. “I don’t know if this is going to work- I don’t even know what a working marriage looks like here… I want… I want it… –to be friends, I mean. That’s what I want… that’s all I want.”

“And, Princess Katara… don’t be so hard on yourself. You did a great job of making me feel welcome. I’m always nervous,” he said with a laugh, “So the fact you stopped me from fainting at the banquet and that I even had the stomach to eat– and eat a lot– shows that you did a beautiful job of calming me down without even knowing it… and I will forever be grateful for that– for you. And… I hope I can do something to return the favor… I hope I can calm you down in some way too because… I’m afraid, too… but we both want this to work, and… I– I think that alone means we have an okay chance… don’t you?”

* * *

Katara faced him slowly, sinking onto the edge of the bed in a sort of awed silence. She listened intently, quietly aside from her sniffles, and finally, swiped at her eyes and smiled.

“I think it might,” she whispered, her lips trembling with emotion. “I think… you give me far too much credit, considering how I pondered sinking your ship as it moved into the harbor…” Katara smirked, a shy laugh tickling her throat.

“It was only for a moment,” she assured him. “I got over it, and- and it might sound cruel— but I think seeing your face helped me get over the fury I wanted to unleash on you.”

Katara bit her lip then, looking down at her lap, not sure how to go on with what she meant. It sounded harsh and cruel by itself, just as Zuko feared she was. She fidgeted with her dress a little restlessly, and finally stood up.

Before Zuko could say anything, she silently unbuttoned the back of the gown, slipping it past her waist and her hips. The midnight blue pooled around her feet and she stood in the firelight wearing nothing but her thin bindings. A soft pink flushed across her skin, but Katara drew his attention to a scar below her ribs.

“A Fire Nation spear went through me here,” she told him, tapping the puckered line. Her fingers shook. “I was pinned to the ground by it, but a colonist found me and healed me.”

Katara moved her hand to her right shoulder, to her left thigh, to tiny scratches and stars that wouldn’t be noticed by an unsure eye. “I’ve been hurt, too. I’ve been beaten and bruised, _burned_. I saw your face, Zuko, and I thought _‘That’s something we have in common.’”_

* * *

Zuko moved his head back with faux-fear on his visage teasingly that he quickly relaxed into a smile as he shook his head to let her know he was teasing. He went back to pocking at the fire then, biting at his lip nervously. “Well… when my father saw my face he certainly unleashed some fury,” Zuko darkly teased, but he laughed sincerely before remembering she hadn’t known such horrid details, and quickly directed his attention back to the fire, not ready to share quite that much yet.

“It’s hard to be scared of a disfigured man, I suppose,” Zuko added, smirking at her, “Especially when you’re a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he spoke as he faced the fire, quickly glancing her way before returning his attention to the flames, but he did a double take when she dropped her garment. –Did she really want to get into things so quickly? Zuko blushed, and hoped he could blame it on heat from the flames, but as soon as he did, his eyes widened, and he dropped the stick. 

Zuko slowly stood, and his stick turned to ash. He encroached on his wife absentmindedly, looking at her in horror and concern. His face bled a million questions. He forgot her body’s crafted beauty, or her eyes’ reflective glow in the firelight. All he saw was the wretched scar on her rib, and he wondered how she was _alive_.

He tentatively reached out with his fingers to trace the wound, but retracted in fear of her reaction. He was appalled, of course not by the sight, but the thought. He knew scars told stories. They all did. Some were silly, like getting fish hooks caught in your finger, and some were that of hellish nightmares, like your father searing your skin while the scent of frying flesh permeated the air and the sound of hearty laughter pierced your ears. 

Zuko was repulsed by what his people had done to her. No wonder she was afraid. His eyes followed all the spots she traced, and Zuko shook his head. “Who would do such a thing?” Zuko asked quietly, in horror. “Why would they hurt you? What reason would they have to harm you?” he spoke in shock of how heinous it was– how heinous his people could be. Zuko frowned and found the courage to trace the thick scar he could follow along her rib with his thumb. 

“It is something we have in common, but… I can’t understand this… I can’t understand why anyone would hurt _you_.”

* * *

She shivered under his touch. It was unexpected, but his thumb was delicate where he traced the old wound and his fingers were warm where they held her side. He seemed in awe of her, reverent as he spoke, shocked as he looked over her skin. Katara put her hand over his, holding his palm against her rib cage.

“We were at war, Zuko… This is what people do to one another.” She whispered it, prayed he wasn’t blaming himself for what she’d faced. He didn’t strike her as a man who would’ve willingly let such atrocities go on if he knew of them.

Katara closed her eyes and moved his hand down to her hip. She relished the featherlight way he touched her, how warm his hands were, like fire could somehow be gentle when he wielded it. She forgot the crueler hands, the bruising hands, the hands that’d done more to her than she’d ever tell him or anyone else.

A shaky breath escaped her. Katara opened her eyes, studying Zuko’s face with her own mix of sorrow and wonder. She had half a clue now, due to his slip by the fire, but she didn’t ask; she didn’t want to hurt him by dredging up his past.

Instead, Katara simply reached up, brushed her fingertips along the ridges of his scar, and then carded through his hair. Zuko leaned into her touch, like she was the first to ever be so careful and tender with him.

Her sigh was long and sad: “There are always worse things that can be done to a person.”

* * *

Her skin was so soft as his hand trailed over it. There was a bevel where the wound was, and she moved his hand across her skin. He shook his head at her sentiment. “You must’ve been a child when the war was going on… I was, and you’re younger than me,” whispered Zuko, still disgusted. “There is no reason to ever harm a _child_ ,” Zuko stated, gently running his hands over her skin.

He leaned into his wife’s touch as her hand caressed against his ragged, deformed skin. He forgot all the names he was called, and the hatred that spewed into his ears and across his face. She was tender and calming, and he relished in it, not caring that he hardly knew her. The moment felt intimate, and he wondered if she would take things further now, or if she’d want to take more time getting to know each other and unwrapping each other like a gift for one another.

He looked up at her when she spoke, “I know… there are far worse, and in the grand scheme… I consider myself very lucky… lucky to have been born, even.” 

* * *

“I think that’s an injustice,” Katara murmured, her fingers linked behind his neck. “To say it was all luck, to disregard how hard you fought to be a part of the _grand scheme_ …” She toyed with his collar, then brought her hands down to his chest. “Your battle is all over skin, Zuko. Don’t call it luck.”

She smiled, swallowing nervously and blushing when their eyes held for a long, quiet moment. A part of her wanted to move further. This time felt organic and natural; it was intimate. But, Katara was afraid of breaking the fragile peace they’d found, even the spirits damned her for it.

She pulled away from him with a pensive look, and sat on the bed again, pulling the quilt around her bare shoulders. “So, I’ve heard rumors that your uncle is quite the master of tea? Do you have the same talents?”

* * *

Zuko looked at her with a weary smile, the lack of sleep catching up on him, but he liked the sight of her eyes better than the lids of his own. He rested his hands on her waist, his thumbs drawing circles there in absentminded, returned affection. He wanted to tell her that there may be scars of stories on his skin, but there too was blood on his hands. She’d fear him then, for sure.

He was glad when she tilted things to something more light. His face alit too, and he eyed the little kitchen area. Zuko sat up then with a proud, concocting smirk. “My uncle is a better tea maker than diplomat even,” Stated Zuko proudly as he dug around in the cupboards for different blends. “I was horrid as a teenager. I refused to learn and hated tea. But, now I find myself sloshing around with it in my stomach almost as much as Uncle.”

“I’ll never be as good as Uncle, but he’s taught me and my cousin a lot,” explained Zuko as he pulled out a standard black tea along with some herbs and spices. “It’ll be different than the floral teas I’m used to. Most of our spices are imported and expensive, which I’m sure the opposite goes here. I assume flowers aren’t the regular,” Zuko said as he sniffed the different spices and mixed them in the loose leaf blend.

Zuko took a pot and filled it with snow from outside and boiled it with his bending before then steeping the tea inside. He let it Steel there and finally took out two mugs, handing one to Katara and taking one himself as he roared up the fire more and sat by it.

“It’s a chai tea… uncle always had it in the fall when we visited Ba Sing Se. I hope it’s all right… have you ever been to Ba Sing Se, Princess Katara?”

* * *

“Oh, um, yes—“ she fumbled as she took the mug, unable to process that he’d been anywhere but his own nation. Even post-war, the Royal family carried a reputation of being too refined for the barbaric cold or the dust-ridden middle earth. That could’ve been the world’s own prejudice, however.

Katara blinked at him, licking hot tea from her fingers as she did. “Oo! This is good! Wow…” She remarked, taking a sip too soon and scalding her tongue. The spices were captivating, though. In the South, tea was meant to warm the belly and that was all; such innovation was new to her.

“Your uncle must be impressed with you.” Katara wiped her lips and smiled. “Did you learn that in Ba Sing Se? There wasn’t even a decent tea shop when I was there… but I was 14, so it was seven years ago.”

She took a second sip, this one smaller and cooler, now that she’d blown on the drink for a moment. When she swallowed, Katara told him more. “I ran off with my brother when I was in my teens. Well, he’d tell that I kidnapped him, but he wanted to come with me all along. We stowed away on a trade ship; it was going up north and I knew there were waterbenders there… I just wanted someone to teach me.”

“Of course, when I got there, they said women weren’t allowed to learn anything but healing, so I threw Pakku on his ass,” Katara shrugged, like it was everyday that she did such things, and smirked. “He agreed to teach me the Northern style after that… and Sokka and I went on to travel through the Earth Kingdom and the outskirts of the Fire Nation. I learned Foggy Swamp style, River style, I studied scrolls on the South’s old style in Ba Sing Se’s libraries, and even mastered a bit of intricate stuff under a waterbender who hid in a Fire village.”

* * *

“He’s not as impressed with me as my cousin, but he’s glad I’ve taken to tea making as well,” Zuko said with a smile and a shrug. “I’m glad you like it, I was worried it’d be awful with the few spices lying about,” Zuko told her, sitting beside her on the bed. “I did… my uncle fantasized about opening a teashop in Ba Sing Se, as well,” Zuko murmured with a laugh, “Of course, that went on pause when he became fire lord.”

Zuko sipped at his tea, watching the fire flicker in a shadow against the floor. It was all so strange, and he couldn’t believe where he was, and who he now was. He looked up at Katara when she spoke again, smirking at her story. She’d been up North. She could help his people, he thought. 

Zuko began laughing when she continued on her story. It surprised him that women weren’t allowed to learn all the styles of bending in the Northern Tribe, and it surprised him that Katara taught him a lesson about it, but he found a lot humor in it. He hadn’t laughed so hard in a while, but the thought of a young child, a little girl, with no formal training, beating this master brought a hidden smile out of him. 

“You’ve been all over the world,” Zuko replied, “I’ve only been to the Earth Kingdom… well, and now here, of course,” he added. “You must be quite the talented bender. I’ve only had formal lessons under masters and my uncle… at the end of the war, I fought my sister as well. She wanted to keep my father on the throne. I’m still surprised my uncle trusts her to go to Ba Sing Se to marry the prince there,” Zuko mused aloud with a sigh, thinking of Azula and how strained things had become. He wondered what Katara was doing in the Fire Nation during the war. It seemed insane. She must have a lot of gusto that he was yet to learn about, but eager to. He wished he could have as much courage.

“Your father didn’t mind? His two children running off like that?” Zuko asked with a laugh, still sipping and playing with his tea in the cup. “I’m sorry to veer off topic… but… Princess Katara… I must ask… the North? You’ve been there… do you know the Chief there?”


	7. Chapter 7

Katara shook her head slowly, hiding a momentary frown behind her cup of chai tea. “My father wasn’t around during the war,” she said, looking at the drink instead of her husband. “My mother was murdered, and he left to fight… or… deal with his grief, I guess.” 

She took a sip and swallowed, still scowling at anything but Zuko. Her father’s absence was a tender subject for her. A man who could leave his two children behind in a war-torn village wasn’t a man Katara could easily forgive— but, she had, and it was better for her to forget it, too.

Katara lowered her mug to her lap again and made herself smile. “It’s all fine, though. He’s happy his heir is capable of defending herself and defending the South… it’s a better situation than Cheif Arnook,” she said, indicating that she’d met the cold man. 

“His only child is Princess Yue, and she’s marrying your cousin this month. She’s a strong woman, proud and confident, but… she’s in a hostile land all by herself, without any way to protect herself, and Cheif Arnook is left without a successor.”

Katara shrugged then, sighing heavily. “There’s been talk of him remarrying or just… taking on a partner… so he can produce another child. He’s not _old,_ by any means, but I’m sure he’d rather the North remain a separate entity from the South.” 

“We call ourselves sister tribes,” she explained, “but really, that’s only in war, trade, and treaties. Our governments are separate; our laws and traditions are worlds apart. It’s… an interesting place to visit.” 

* * *

Zuko put a hand on her leg, right above her knee with a gentle squeeze when she spoke of her father. “I’m so sorry, Princess Katara…” whispered Zuko. “My mother was murdered too… I know how badly that hurts. I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Zuko told her, biting his lip. “My father also wasn’t around, but when he was, I wished he wasn’t,” Zuko said with a dark laugh. “Your father seems kind though… I don’t know why he left you and your brother behind. Your country must’ve needed him badly. He did so many great things to aid in the end of the war,” Zuko spoke, trying to comfort her. 

“I heard of that trouble in the North, too… my cousin is a kind man. Don’t worry about Princess Yue,” Zuko tried to assure Katara. “He will be good to her, that I can assure you. He wouldn’t harm anyone, especially his wife,” Zuko spoke. “And, my uncle is the kindest man you’ll ever meet. No one is more compassionate than my uncle. He will make sure Princess Yue is well taken care of and happy,” Zuko promised, thinking fondly of his family.

“I’ve also heard talks of two heirs being born… one given to the North, and one kept in the Fire Nation. That would be cruel to Princess Yue and Lu Ten… and the baby, though… but that’s hardly ever a concern to these sages and diplomats,” Zuko scoffed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry…” he whispered, letting out a deep sigh, his hand still rested above her knee with quiet affection as his thoughts drifted back to his homeland and the atrocities of the Northern Tribe. He felt more confident in bringing it up now that she’d distanced herself from them.

“Princess Katara,” Zuko spoke, trying to seek her attention. He turned to her, meeting her gaze. “I must ask you something… a favor, if you please,” Zuko said more seriously. “The Northern Water Tribe has raided many poorer villages in the Fire Nation. They’ve overtaken them, and run them– terrorizing the villagers. They murdered the men, and rape the women every day… they’ve kidnapped the children, and made slaves of them, and stolen their goods and exports, and property, and land, and burnt their crops– they just say they deserve it for what the Fire Nation has done, but… they’re just ordinary people. They’re only trying to make a living and get by. They just happened to live in the Fire Nation at the wrong time. They’re good people. My people… they’re not– they’re not intrinsically bad, this I promise you. They’re suffering. They’ve been suffering since a year after the Hundred Year War’s end,” Zuko spoke. 

“Please… if there’s anything you can do to alert Chief Arnook? To make it stop? Princess Katara, I am begging you to help these people. I’ll repay you in any way I can. These people– when I went to them, they heard of my betrothal, and they begged me to help them. I promised them I would. I want to end their suffering… they don’t deserve this.”

* * *

“Well, it can’t be on Cheif Arnook’s orders,” Katara told him. “He’s stern and fierce, but he’s not _sadistic_.” She rubbed her brow with one hand, sorting through what Zuko had said. “It must be a rogue platoon… we had a bit of trouble with revenge strikes in the South… some men had to be imprisoned or- or executed—” 

Katara put her tea aside and clutched the quilt closer to her body. “I’ll write to the Chief, okay? We’ll get it sorted out and stopped,” she assured. “I doubt Arnook knows what’s happening, and if he does, he will have to answer to the South. Don’t worry, Zuko, I’ll help. I promise.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes drifted to glance at the window. There was a soft blanket of snow falling, and it felt cold, but tranquil too. He’d never seen snow until now. He was too embarrassed to tell her that. She seemed well-cultured, having been all around the world. She’d think he was close-minded or unrefined.

He looked back to her when she promised to help. “I know there isn’t much you can do, but… you can do more than me, and… I- I just can’t go on knowing I didn’t even try,” Zuko whispered. “Thank you, Princess Katara,” Zuko spoke, gripping her wrist over the quilt. “That means a lot to me.”

He dropped his hand from hers a bit reluctantly, looking at the snow again. “It’s peaceful… quiet. It’s so different from the city. You can clear your head here- just think,” Zuko whispered, trying to fill the almost eerie, snow-plained silence. “Which is either good or bad, depending on where you’re at personally,” he said with a laugh.

* * *

“Personally, I am…” Katara paused, searching for the right word to fit the sort of melancholy ache in her chest. She was married, but not for love. She was a newlywed, but not because she wanted to be. She was without the comfort of her home, her father, her grandmother, her own bed, but she was finding a semblance of peace in her new husband. 

Katara glanced sideways, looking over his profile as he stared off and out the window. “I’m content,” she decided, sighing with the realization. It wasn’t the most joyous state to find herself in, but for now, Katara thought it would be enough. 

“I’m content,” she repeated, brushing the quilt off her shoulders and leaving the bed. “I hope you are, too, and if you aren’t, I hope you will be soon. I really do. I meant it when I said I wanted you to find happiness here.” 

Katara smiled softly when Zuko’s eyes came back to her, then turned her attention to the chests of clothing that’d been brought to the hut. She rummaged through one, finding a silky nightgown for herself and a set of pajamas for Zuko.

“Here, it might be nicer out of the wedding clothes,” she handed him the set, then pointed at the privacy screen. “You’ll be wearing those every morning for a week, anyways. 

* * *

“That’s good,” Zuko answered, turning to look at her with a smile. “Content is… better than… malcontent,” Zuko said with a shrug, laughing to himself as he shook his head. “I don’t know what I am. I guess I’m still trying to decide,” Zuko admitted as he nervously began to pick at the fray in the quilt. “I’m happy that if I’m stuck with someone, it was you, though,” he clarified. “I feel very lucky to be with you, Princess Katara.”

He watched her get up and head over to a chest, pulling out a nightgown, and woolen pajamas for him. He stood, walking over to be beside her as he picked up the nightwear and ran his fingers over the heavy, but soft material. 

He wondered if again she was passing on the consummation. Wouldn’t they shun them soon? Would they know? Zuko didn’t want to fail the treaty, their marriage, his new country, nor his wife. Maybe Katara didn’t want him. Maybe she was scared, too. 

Zuko took the clothes, thanking her as he went behind the screen to change. He pulled out his hair from its traditional wolftail and let it fall behind his shoulders. He felt much more comfortable in the warm, loose, wooly pajamas than the fancy garments, and he came out from the screen with a smile, sitting back by the fire. 

In an ideal situation, this would be romantic. It would be like a honeymoon. When she was young, she probably thought of this day with a man she loved, drinking wine by the fire and laughing with him while they were up making love all night long. Instead, she was left with the almost-banished, clumsy, awkward, virgin, idiot, Fire Nation prince she didn’t even know. Zuko sighed as he looked back at the fire, using his bending to build it up again. 

“I- I can make more tea… if you’d like?”

* * *

Katara shook her head. “I’m alright,” she said politely, “If I have anymore, I won’t sleep well… caffeine tends to give me nightmares. Or, it just keeps me up until dawn, and I shouldn’t subject you to the horror that is a sleep-deprived Princess.” 

She smirked, then went silent, fidgeting awkwardly in the middle of the hut. She had changed while Zuko was behind the screen, swiftly unwinding her bindings and dumping the white strips on the floor by the trunk. 

Now, she only wore the floor-length slip, and with Zuko’s eyes on her, Katara suddenly felt like it clung to her far too much. She made fists of the fabric, nervous as her mind scrambled for anything to say to him. She kept coming up short, gaping at him like a fish. 

Eventually, Katara looked at the floor, her mouth set in a firm line. 

There was nothing to say, really. In any case, it’d be natural what came next, what should follow tea and talk and tense looks— she didn’t imagine the way he looked at her, did she?

It was possible… She was attracted to him, and Katara knew that the mind could play tricks when you wanted something badly enough. Her thoughts drifted back to her worries at breakfast: that Zuko didn’t want her, not enough for anything outside of producing a child, and perhaps he’d be happier with a lifestyle more similar to that of his father and grandfather. 

Swallowing, Katara decided she’d interview a handful of her maids, see if any or a number of them would be interested in serving her husband. She’d ask for a separate bedroom tomorrow, separate schedules— she’d avoid him, but for the one time a month he’d be needed. 

She pursed her lips and turned away from the Prince. “I- I’m actually a bit tired now,” Katara muttered.

She went to the bed and began pulling the decorative pillows off and rolled the blankets back. Her mind was whirring: She could lie to the council and her father about her marriage’s consummation. It wasn’t like she had her virginity intact. All she had to do was get through this week. 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes trailed down her figure. She was beautiful, really. Zuko pursed his lips shyly, blushing, and he averted his gaze once she noticed his stare. He didn’t know what to say. He could tell her that he always had nightmares, and he’d probably wake up screaming if he fell asleep at all. That’d probably be a fair warning, but he decided he’d rather just hope that he didn’t have any and procrastinate dealing with that embarrassing episode that was bound to come if they were to share a chamber. 

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Zuko said in a whisper, a smirk on his face, and his eyes twinkling in the fire’s glow’s gaze. He nodded in agreement with her declaration. He hadn’t slept since he’d been onboard the ship, and he was plumb exhausted. His eyes had been wobbling all day, and he hoped he’d get some rest tonight, but he didn’t want to make his wife uncomfortable by crawling up beside her in the bed. She didn’t seem to want him. She’d shifted so much since yesterday where she couldn’t keep her hands off him. Perhaps it was an act, before. She’d said she was trying to do her part. She’d confessed to putting on an act for the treaty. That must’ve been part of it. He didn’t blame her. 

“I… I can sleep on the sofa by the fire, if that would make you more comfortable, Princess Katara. I’m fine either way,” Zuko assured her. “Which… whichever you prefer.”

* * *

“I- I’m not going to care if you sleep in the same bed as me,” Katara said, almost harsh in her tone. “I only left the bedroom last night because _you_ seemed so uncomfortable with the prospect of sleeping with me.” 

She turned towards him, looking down his frame. The fire outlined him, and he had a hand perched on the back of the sofa like he’d fall over if she so much as approached him.

Frustration flared up, heating her face and her veins. “It’s whichever you prefer, honestly. If you want the sofa, take it. If you want a decent night’s sleep and abed that fits you, sleep beside me. I don’t bite, Prince Zuko.” 

“I can even do this.” She grabbed some of the pillows from the floor and arranged them down the center of the bed like they were young children who needed the mattress evenly divided to keep from quarreling. 

“There. _Your majesty.”_ Katara crossed her hands over her chest, practically glaring at him. “If that’s not enough, then by all means, the sofa is yours; but please, at least pretend we’re acting as husband and wife. It’ll make lying to the Tribe easier for me.” 

* * *

Zuko was startled by the change in her demeanor, and kept his gaze on the fire, unwavering. Agitation built in his chest, but he held it in, remembering the sages’ instructions as he clenched the back of the sofa tightly. He turned his head to look down at the sofa, memorizing the patterns that were so intricately sewn into it. 

He sighed deeply, and simply nodded, but looked up when she grabbed the pillows. He watched, entirely displeased as she arranged the pillows down the bed. Zuko had to fight the urge to roll his eyes and growl a sarcastic comment. Instead he bit his tongue, and said nothing. 

She was blatantly angry he hadn’t slept with her yet– and not just next to her. Zuko let out a shaky breath, and swallowed his pride. He still couldn’t reach her eyes when he spoke, for fear she’d see the irritation in them at her juvenile, and petty stunt. 

“Princess Katara, I’m sorry if my behavior upset you last night,” Zuko whispered demurely, as taught. He was a penance, after all. He was here as the scapegoat of a hundred years’ worth of atrocities on behalf of his country. Apologizing atrocities didn’t bark back. Besides, with a flick of her wrist she could send him outside to freeze to death if she so chose. He was, well– _anything_ – at her mercy.

“I’d be delighted to share your bedside, and if you are ready to consummate our marriage tonight, then I am as well,” Zuko spoke, “There is no reason to lie if it is simply on my accord.”

* * *

“Oh.” Her demeanor softened almost instantly, going from the cold front she’d built to shy and sheepish. Katara looked at him, then looked away, too spooked to move for fear he’d change his mind. “Okay…” 

She glanced at the bed, at the petty game laid out down its length. He probably thought she was stupid, a stupid, selfish brat he’d been forced to marry, and now, forced to sleep with. 

Katara swallowed, but bent over the mattress to rearrange the pillows. She spread them out along the headboard, making the space cozy for them, and finally returned her eyes to Zuko. 

“I—” She was on the verge of apologizing. Katara knew she needed to, but she bit her bottom lip and stalled. It was uncomfortable and odd. From Zuko’s body language, she gathered that he wanted nothing to do with this and she simply wanted it over with so she could say she’d upheld her marriage and the treaty.

Katara shuffled, then let her lip go and swiped her tongue across it. Her fingers toyed with the fabric at her hips for a moment, before she grabbed the nightgown and lifted it over her head. 

It fell to the floor in a silky heap, leaving her bare. Katara kept her eyes on it, finally finding her ability to speak. “I’m sorry if I offended you… I’d be honored to share the bed with you, too.” 

* * *

Zuko’s heart leapt into his chest with nerves. And, his fingers curled into the headboard of the sofa anxiously, but he plastered on an encouraging smile. He watched her peel off her nightgown, leaving her entirely bare. She was beautiful, and Zuko couldn’t look away, despite the instinct to. His eyes scanned her frame, and his heartbeat raced, but she was gorgeous. 

Zuko swallowed thickly because he was not. He couldn’t please her the way the others she’d been with could, either. He had no experience other than fooling around with Jin before mutually chickening out from shame. She must think he was awfully undesirable to be a twenty-three-year-old prince with no notches in his belt. But, he’d be just another in hers. That scared him.

If he wasn’t a good enough lover she could toss him aside. There was a lot of pressure, and it had his stomach in knots. His entire purpose of being here was to please her, and that included in bed. But, he didn’t know how other than stories he’d been told and frivolous advice from haughty men. As penance, he was here at her disposal, and that could mean being disposed. He was at her mercy in everything, even sex. 

“You’re beautiful, Princess Katara,” Zuko murmured, and felt like a spotlight was on him. It was his turn, and the timer was ticking. Zuko took a deep breath, and tried to reel himself in.  He worked at the buttons on the woolen pajamas, undoing each one with shaky hands, before shedding it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.  

He pursed his lips before he tugged off his boxers and undergarments in one pull, fighting the urge to close his eyes. He still stood behind the couch, but felt bare to her anyway. He knew he should move, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. All he had was the nagging sages’ voices in his head and the fear of fucking up _fucking her._

“You haven’t offended me, Princess Katara. Don’t… don’t worry about that,” was all Zuko could say in a delayed response as he encroached from out behind the sofa slowly, finally showing himself to her with self-consciousness written all over his demeanor.

* * *

She could tell he was nervous. Katara was, too, but she’d been in this position a hundred times, and this was Zuko’s first. A note of sympathy resonated within her. She could understand his worries. She smiled to encourage him and closed the distance. 

“You’re beautiful, too. Don’t think otherwise,” Katara murmured, threading her fingers through his hair. Usually, she’d stare, she’d peruse him like something to be devoured because driving someone to desperation was half the fun, but with Zuko, she wanted it to be about him. 

She wanted to please him, touch him, learn him— Katara bumped his nose with hers, breathing him in slowly before pressing her lips to his. She kissed him gently, letting him lead, letting him grow used to her this close to him, this exposed to him. 

Her breasts brushed his chest. She fisted his hair, only to let go, massage his scalp, and tickle down his back. Her fingertips traced the muscles lining his spine. Katara skimmed around his ribcage, feeling his chest, his stomach, the _‘V’_ of his hips. 

She paused there, breaking the kiss and simply resting her forehead on his. Her hands rested on Zuko’s waist. Katara opened her eyes part way to take him in, from the visible beat of his heart to the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Do you want this?” she whispered, her lips brushing his. He wasn’t touching her, so Katara had to be sure. “You can answer me truthfully, Zuko. Do you really want to do this? Do you _really_ want me?”

* * *

Zuko felt her lips against his, and melted against the kiss, but his heart still raced. He felt her breasts pushed against his chest, and the carnal part of him wanted more, despite his hesitance. She was truly beautiful, and she knew just how to touch him to elicit a response. Zuko let out breathy moans between their kisses, but he still restrained himself, afraid to do anything. He didn’t know what she liked, or what women in general liked other than rumors, and he knew those were usually not so viable. 

She was panting as she leaned her forehead on his, and he opened his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were half-lidded in lust, and it half made him more nervous, and half made him more ready. Her question, though, did the same. It made him more ready, and more nervous at the same time. He couldn’t back out now– he’d have to consummate their marriage, and now was as good as ever. At least she wouldn’t be angry with him anymore if he did it now. She wouldn’t be offended anymore. He couldn’t have that. 

“Yes,” Zuko whispered, only a slight fib. “I- I’m ready,” Zuko stated, and that was the truth. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He put his hands on her waist and nudged her nose. “I’m yours… and yours alone, forevermore.”


	8. Chapter 8

With his permission, Katara took Zuko’s hands in hers and pulled him towards the bed. She turned just before they reached it, putting his back to it, sending him tumbling down on top of the quilt, with her on top of him. 

She laughed a little, suppressing a comment about how she thought that’d be sexier than it was. Zuko’s fingers were trembling wherever he touched her. He was nervous, and she didn’t want him to think any fumble was his fault. 

Instead, Katara kissed him, harder than the first time, more eager. She coaxed his tongue into her mouth and tasted chai tea, tasted the smoky undercurrent that made up him. She ran her hands down his chest, then down further, caressing the outside of his leg and the inside of his thigh. 

Zuko’s breath hitched as she got closer to his cock. A groan built in his throat, breathy and pleading. Katara drug her lips to his neck, nipping his skin, licking his pulse, and her hand moved up. 

She stroked him experimentally, then ran her thumb around the tip of him. Zuko gasped at that, bucked upwards; Katara guessed he liked it, and did it again, teasing until she found what parts of him were sensitive, what made him moan and lift off the bed.

Then, Katara pulled away, kissed down his body until she was settled between his legs. Her hand still moved up and down his cock. She pecked his thigh, nibbled the junction between his hip and his leg, then brought her mouth to the tip of his cock. Her tongue flicked out; Katara licked him, once, then twice. She paused and smiled, albeit unsure and nervous as she looked at him. 

“Good? Do you want me to go on?” Katara asked quietly. “Please… I- you can direct me… I just want this to be a good experience for you. I want you to enjoy it.” 

* * *

 

Zuko fell back onto the soft bed with an ‘oof’. Her laugh made him ease up, and he laughed too, moving his hand to cradle her face before they began to kiss. Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut and he melted against her. He was surprised at how natural it felt, and his hands trailed down her body, squeezing at her waist as she deepened the kiss. 

Her hands and then lips down his body were intoxicating and left him moaning in wordless pleas. His breath was thick, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip, his eyes closed shut, focused on the pleasure she wrought from his body. He wanted to return the same to her, because it was his duty, and he wanted to prove to her he could be a good husband to her and a worthwhile lover– but also because he wanted to. He wanted to return the pleasure to her.

When she gripped his throbbing cock, Zuko gasped, a long moan escaping his lips up from his throat. He was almost begging. Then, she brought her lips there and Zuko lost all self-control. He forgot his nervousness a moment as she took his cock between her lips. 

“Yes, _please_ –” Zuko grunted, glancing down at her, which only made him harder, and his fists tangled in the sheets. “I– I am… that– that’s good. I– I’m okay, better than okay,” Zuko admitted with a laugh. He was still shaky, but less so, but maybe that was because it was hard to think of anything aside from the beautiful woman between his legs.

* * *

 

 _“Mmm…”_ Katara smiled, humming softly while she stroked his cock. “Good.” She lapped at him once, watched him grab the sheets with white-knuckles, heard him whimper when she blew cool air over the swollen head. “So good.”

She wrapped her lips around him then, closing her eyes and sucking on him until Zuko let go of the quilt and fisted her hair. She looked up his frame, finding his mouth hanging open and a silent cry trapped in his throat. The sound ripped from him when she popped off, coming out like a whine. He wanted more, he wanted harder and faster. He wanted her. 

Katara felt emboldened by it, how he seemed to fall apart at her whims. She swirled around his cock with her tongue, licked up and down the entire length of him, then took him in her mouth again, her head bobbing with the rhythm he set. 

His hips rolled upward, his fingers tugged on her hair. Zuko said her name in a whisper, and she could feel how close he was, how his stomach tensed and his heels dug into the bed— she could taste it. 

Katara pulled back, sitting up her knees. Her hands rested on his thighs, her fingertips digging into the muscle. She wanted him, badly, and she guessed he was on the verge of begging based on the lust in his eyes and every twitch of his cock. She sighed hungrily.

“I thought I should stop there…” she breathed, licking her lips. They were swollen and tingled from the lack of being wrapped around Zuko’s length. She swiped a bead of cum from the tip of his cock, licked the pad of her finger clean and hummed. “…so we can take things further.. if you still want to.” 

* * *

 

He was becoming completely unraveled by her tongue. Zuko didn’t know how she was so good at this, but he was unraveling. He was desperate for his release, but he wanted, and needed to please her in return. His hands clawed in her hair as she bobbed up and down on his cock, making him crave every inch of her. He wanted to soak his cock inside of her, to know how it felt, and he was eager. But, he was still nervous. He was hesitant. He wanted to make sure she felt good– she was ready, that he’d pleased her. The last thing he wanted was to be a selfish lover, but he didn’t even know where to start. 

He pulled his hands from her hair, panting as he looked at her with those wet lips that he could kiss all day. She too had a carnal look in her eyes, and he wanted to touch her back. He wanted to hear her moan. But, shit, he didn’t know what she liked or what to do. Zuko sat up to meet her gaze. His breath was sharp, and he was aching in his abdomen, and his cock was twitching with need.

He put his hand on her thigh, and leaned in close with a breathless smile. “I– I want to please you too… please, tell– tell me what you like,” Zuko whispered, his hand sliding up her leg nervously. “Let– let me touch you, please, Princess Katara.”

* * *

“You can touch me however you like.” Katara leaned forward, her forehead against his, her breath coming in short pants and mixing with his. 

She wanted to push him back and straddle him, sink down on his cock and learn what he felt like. She wanted to dig her fingers into his chest and move slowly. She wanted to kiss him, suckle his neck, moaning in his ear as she built their pace and relished the feeling of his cock inside her. 

But Zuko, despite everything she’d done to build him up, asked her— pleaded with her— just to touch her, _please her._  

Katara kissed him roughly, bit his bottom lip and tugged his hair. She slipped into his lap as he sighed against her tongue. She rolled her hips, soaking his cock with the motion, and gasped. 

It was hard to stop. She could’ve lifted up and slid down him. She could’ve brought him over the edge with a handful of thrusts and followed him quickly, coming around his cock with a cry. _La,_ she wanted to. 

She stilled, though, and broke the kiss with a whine, and murmured, “I like… I’ll show you. I can show you.” Katara left Zuko’s lap and lay down on her back, with her knees drawn up and legs spread for him. 

Heat flared across her skin as Zuko’s eyes roamed her. His gaze finally met hers and she held it, watching the gold melt with lust. Nervousness sparked in her belly then, but she tried to hide it with a smile, with a breathy whisper of his name. “Zuko…” 

Katara trailed one hand along the inside of her thigh, while the other toyed with her breasts. “This—” She tugged her nipple, “with your teeth… and your tongue…” 

“And this…” Between her legs, Katara made a slow circle around her clit. Her body tensed of its own accord; her hips flexed and she rocked into her palm, moving her hand lower to slip her fingers between her folds. 

“Fuck, I’m soaked for you,“ Katara moaned, closed her eyes and touched herself while Zuko watched. She couldn’t tell if he was still learning, or simply enjoying the show she put on, but she wanted him. She wanted his hand, his fingers, instead of hers. 

Katara moved her hand from between her legs, dragging it up her body and leaving a path of slickness that glistened in the fire. “Come here,” she told him. “Touch me… _please,_ Zuko.” 

* * *

Her body was like a sculpture, and she laid on the bed like she’d been sculpted just for him. He wished he could give her such a masterpiece in return. She was beautiful, and as he watched her teach him what she liked, the hardness between his legs throbbed, and ached- he longed to bury his cock inside her and learn the feeling that was held between a woman’s legs: his wife’s legs. 

He watched all the parts on her body she pointed out that she liked to be touched and kissed. She mapped them out and Zuko decided he was going to hit each spot until each coordinate drew lines to a constellation. 

Zuko crawled over her, and kissed her deeply, dragging his hand down over her breast. He squeezed at the mound of flesh before moving his hand further down, over her ribcage, her waist, her hips, her thigh. He caressed the inside of her thigh while kissing her, moving down to trail kisses on her neck, roaming over her pulse while he continued to stroke her inner thigh. 

Zuko continued moving his lips over her body until he reached her breasts and he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over her and nipping at the swollen bud as she demonstrated. Every movement was made hesitantly and self-consciously. He glanced up at her between each movement, trying to read her reactions, and hoping he was pleasing her. 

Zuko ran his fingers then, warily, over her slick bundle of nerves. She gasped at that, and she was so wet. He used his thumb to run circles there, sliding his index and middle finger over her, gauging her reactions before sliding his fingers slowly inside her, and back out, running back over her clit as his lips still worked at her breasts. 

He was nervous as he worked at pleasing her, wondering how awful he was doing, if she was wishing he was another man she’d been with, or planning out how she’d go to him next to make up for it. He hardly knew what he was doing, and he hoped she was enjoying this. He wanted her to enjoy it, it was his duty to please her, and he wanted to. He wanted her to want him, to want this. 

* * *

“Zuko—” Katara grabbed his wrist, keeping his fingers inside her, keeping his thumb against her clit. Her back curved above the bed, all of her pressing closer to him and she rocked into his hand. 

Whatever he did felt perfect. She could tell Zuko was nervous about it, with the apprehensiveness in his eye and the glances that kept flicking over her face. Katara meant to reassure him, whether through words or a smile, but she couldn’t so much as breathe. 

Her body trembled for him. Her heels dug into the bed, and she whined and writhed. His thumb drew shapes with delicacy, his fingers pumped in and out of her slowly. She could’ve begged him— her clit ached from the light friction, the muscles in her stomach tensed. 

Katara fisted his hair, tugging on the raven locks so hard it had to hurt him. Zuko didn’t flinch, though; he seemed to take it as encouragement, lapping and licking her breasts, biting back before kissing away the assault. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat under his lips, if he knew he’d set her blood aflame. 

“Please…” She hissed, begging, but Katara couldn’t think of what she was begging Zuko for. Him? She had him, with his mouth on her and his fingers tormenting her. Still, Katara couldn’t keep the word off her tongue. “Please. _Please.”_

She was on fire; Zuko had ignited her, with his kiss, his touch. Katara felt like she was on the cusp of imploding, having been teased to the point of whimpering, caressed to the point of shattering. 

Her breath was short, little, panting pleas being all that escaped between low moans. Her body moved, seeking more friction, more of him, becoming erratic, her legs shook. 

Katara closed her eyes, still for just moment— 

“Fuck.” Her climax washed over her like a wave, violently. It blinded her, drowned her, stole every bit of sense until she didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. The only thing grounding her was him.  _“Zuko.”_

* * *

Zuko moved in accord with her whimpers and pleas. He could tell he was doing something right, and even if she hadn’t said so. She arched into his touch, and begged, and he didn’t stop, giving her just what she craved. His fingers moved inside her, and his thumb kept circling her clit. His mouth lapped over her breasts, and his free hand caressed her bottom, pushing her closer and pinning her hip.

She felt slick and warm, and tight, and he wanted to bury his cock inside her, and feel the plush walls his fingers touched around his aching cock instead. She fiercely clutched at his hair while he continued to push his fingers in and out of her while she whimpered. He felt proud as she came unraveled before him, and he smirked, knowing he’d brought her to this state.

She was so wet, and he wanted more. He wanted her. He wanted to be inside her desperately as he felt her come around his fingers and he pulled out, trailing his hands that were wet with her juices up her tan body, his lips kissing up her chest that quickly rose and fell.

Zuko was hovering atop her, himself out of breath, and trembling with need and lust. He brushed his nose against hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue sneaking into her mouth as one hand cupped her breast and the other propped him up. He was glad he pleased her, and proud of it. He’d done what he was sent for, then. Maybe he _could_ be enough, and she wouldn’t need to seek another.

He liked the way she panted his name– without the title. It felt more personal, it felt like they were real, and there was a realness of what they had. He wanted it to be real so badly. He wanted them to have something real. “Please… Please, I– I want you,” Zuko begged against her lips, smiling against her. And, he meant it this time. His nerves were there, but on the backburner, overtaken by his lusting desire. He was sure now, though, that he wanted this- he wanted her. “ _Please_.”

* * *

“Yes.” Katara ran her fingers up his back, then cupped his jaw. She kissed him with a touch of laziness, savoring the flavor of his lips while her heart slowed in its thunderous beat against her ribs. “Yes, Zuko, you have me.” 

She brought her hands down his chest, pushed him back so he lay flat on the bed, then swung her knee across his hips. Zuko looked at her in surprise, but the shock wore off quickly— 

Katara was grinding on him, soaking his cock, teasing herself. Her fingers dug into his chest where she braced herself; Zuko’s hands grabbed at her hips, quickening her movements. They were both panting, both on edge— she thought she’d climax again from this alone. 

But, she stopped and lifted herself up. Katara reached between them, found his cock hard and throbbing. She stroked him, rubbed her wet, swollen lips against the tip of him, and sighed his name. 

_“La,_ Zuko—” She bit her lip, rubbing her sex on his cock. “You have me… I am yours for life.” Katara whined, her arms were shaking with her weight. Finally, when she thought she’d fall apart and Zuko had started keening, Katara slid his cock down through her lips and took the entire length of him. 

* * *

When she positioned herself over him, Zuko threw his head back with a deep moan. His eyes fluttered shut as his eyes lulled to the back of his head. His breath was released shakily in a deep moan as he got lost in the feeling of her soft walls against his throbbing, hard cock. She was warm and wet against him, and so tight. She felt so fucking good, and he bucked up against her, desperate for more as he already felt himself so close to the edge from her prior teasing.

“Agni,” Zuko grunted, thrusting up into her as he held her hips steady for leverage, urging her to move against him. He pulled her onto him with panting moans, wanting to relish int he every feel of her as he pushed her down deeper onto his length as she thrusted down against him, rotating her hips as she sheathed him into her.

They moved in pace with each other, him meeting her when she sunk down and he thrusted up, their hips clashing in the steady rhythm that mixed amidst their pants, moans, and rapid heartbeats. Zuko felt himself encroaching the edge with each slap of their skin. “Katara,” he moaned, leaving the royal title at the door for the first time. “K-Katara, please– that– you-you’re so good,” he moaned, his fingers dragging down her back and onto her ass as he pressed her firmly onto him. “ _Katara_ –”

* * *

 

“Zuko… _Zuko—”_ She echoed the repetitions of her name, thrusting in time to them, to the syllables of his. It was rhythmic, erotic; Katara closed her eyes and listened to the sound of Zuko’s groans, the sound of skin slapping skin. 

He grabbed her breasts, her waist, and her hips, holding her tight and still as their pace built. Katara leaned forward as his nails dug into the small of her back and kissed him, captured his breath on her tongue. 

She liked it, liked his taste. His kisses were as greedy as hers, teeth nipping at her lips, his arms holding her even tighter. She liked his hands on her hips, then her ass. She liked that that he lost himself in her, buried himself deep inside her, forget anything and everything except how he felt with her. 

She liked _him—_ with anyone else, Katara would’ve scolded herself for it. But with Zuko… When he touched her, how he kissed her, the way he fucked her… he was gentle and soft, as warm as his element and just as mesmerizing. She was going to fall… and fall hard. 

But she didn’t care. She broke the kiss to moan his name, so close to pure bliss again and all too aware of how precariously he clung to the edge. 

“Come on,” Katara whimpered, her thrusts getting erratic, her breath coming in short gasps. She made fists in his hair, rested her forehead on his. “Zuko, come— please— _come with me.”_

* * *

 

He didn’t need more than her permission to instantly fall over the edge with her. He gripped her hips, riding out the pleasure as he came, rocking against her while crooning that beautiful, beautiful name. Zuko swore he never felt so great in his entire life. He pulled her down gently to kiss her with his release, his arms wrapped at her shoulders as he let out a shaky breath, relishing in the way she felt clenched around his cock. 

She was sighing his name amidst slews of hushed curses, and he rode out his final waves of pleasure with little thrusts before she tumbled off of him, and they both were left panting beside each other on the bed as their heartbeats gradually began to steady, and Zuko laughed warmly. He propped his arm up, leaning it on his forehead over his bangs that clung to the sweat there despite the frigid weather outside. 

He had the urge to curl in close to her, pull her head to his chest, or lie his over hers, and kiss her, holding her beneath the covers close, but he didn’t know what she wanted or how she’d react. He didn’t know what she usually did with her lovers. Did she kick them out? Did they spend the night? Did she stay with them? Did she leave? He would be different, or so he hoped, regardless, because he was her husband. 

But, as he came down from his high, all he could do was just shake his head and laugh, “Wow,” the prince laughed with a breathy whisper, “That… that was…  _wow_.”

* * *

 

_“Mmm…”_ Katara hummed, tickling up her stomach with her fingertips. Then, she laughed and rolled over, throwing her arm over Zuko’s waist and twisting her legs up with his. “Have I rendered you speechless?” 

She pecked his shoulder before laying her head on his chest. “You were wonderful, okay, Zuko?” Katara drew shapes on his belly, listening to his heartbeat slow to its normal rate. “I know you were nervous, but it was wonderful.” 

“I had fun.” Katara lifted up on her elbow, smiling brightly at him. She toyed with his hair for a minute, then pulled the quilt up and over them, nestling down with a sigh. 

“I think I’ll be happy with you, Zuko.” She whispered it, feeling almost shy. It wasn’t often that she trusted someone with how she felt, let alone a lover. And she was worried— Zuko was forced into this, he was made to be hers with little choice. He could be playing a part. He could be deceiving her.  

Regardless, the Prince was her husband and she wanted a marriage. A  _real_ marriage. She wanted to laugh and cry with him, pull through everything with him. Katara wanted children and grandchildren and a legacy that started with the two of them, learning about each other and falling in love with one another. 

Katara kissed his chest, a smile on her lips from the possibilities of it all. “I’m going to be very happy with you.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled when she moved in close to him, and he rolled on his side to be closer to her too. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close over his chest where he pecked her forehead affectionately, laughing happily. He was relieved to hear that she’d had a good time, and he too had a good time once he let go of his nerves. He’d had a great time. 

“I had fun too, so much fun,” Zuko said with a laugh, and his face grew bright and pink, snuggling under the blankets with her. He moved his hand to shyly caress her face at her confession, smiling as he brushed his thumb over her cheek then moved his hand down to hold hers in a lax, comfortable state. 

Zuko was surprised at how easy it was to lie beside her in the afterglow of it all. He was surprised how easy it was to make love to her. He was surprised how easy it was to talk to her, too. It’d only been two days, but he was already easing up with her. She was the polar opposite of what the sages prepped him for. Zuko was so happy because she was amazing. She was better than he ever could have hoped for in every possible way. Not only was she going to be not terrible, which was all he’d hoped for– she was going to be a good wife, a great wife. He was lucky. 

“I’m happy too,” Zuko admitted bashfully, his finger tracing over her wrist. “I think… despite it all, and being so far from home, and… all this snow everywhere… I think I can be happy here too… because I have _you_ , Katara,” he told her graciously, squeezing her hand. “ _Thank you_ for being so good to me.”


	9. Chapter 9

Katara woke from a dreamless sleep, her first thought being that she was too warm but too comfortable to move away from the relentless source of heat. Her thoughts drifted to that source then, the muscled legs that entwined with hers and strong arms that wrapped around her waist. 

A steady heartbeat thumped against her cheek. Katara blinked slowly, focusing on a tangle of red and blue sheets. Her gaze drifted over the quilts, over the outline of a man’s hips and waist. His ivory skin was a stark contrast to hers, and she stared at the clash of her arm on his stomach for a long while, before registering the delicate whisper of fingertips up and down her ribs. 

Katara breathed in sharply, almost startled, and lifted her head to find the face of her companion. Her pulse slowed as soon as she saw the soft gold of Zuko’s eyes. She smiled sleepily, “Morning…”  

“How long have you been up?” She asked, relaxing again. Katara braced herself on one elbow and traced old scars down his chest and abdomen. “Hopefully not long enough to hear me snoring… I’ve been told I do. I’m also a bed hog and cover hog, and I think I kick in my sleep, but, um—” 

Katara glanced at him sheepishly, color spreading across her cheeks when she realized she’d been rambling. It was a fault of hers, especially when she was nervous. 

She looked away, back down at his body, and apologized, “Sorry… I’m just… I- I’ve never woken up with someone before. This is… one aspect that’s new for me.” 

* * *

Zuko woke up peacefully and with a full night’s rest. Somehow, he was so comfortable curled up with Katara, even if they were practically strangers. It was so cozy beneath the quilts with the fire, and wrapped up in her arms. He didn’t want to disturb her, and he enjoyed the quiet, stillness of the moment. Zuko began absentmindedly running his fingers over her skin, daydreaming about their future– if maybe they would fall in love. He could see himself falling for the future queen. It wouldn’t be hard at all. She had so many virtues, and she was beautiful, and in her vices he accepted, and found humor in some. He wondered though, if she’d ever love him. 

Zuko smiled brightly, but groggily when she stirred, and sat up to look at him. Those eyes were what would get him, he discovered. He reached up and caressed her cheek gently as she touched his chest. “I haven’t been up too long,” Zuko replied, laughing at her next comment, “I didn’t hear any snoring, but I’ll be sure to keep an open ear,” he retorted, and thinking that if she thinks that’s bad, then if he wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, she’ll be shaken. He was glad at least tonight he didn’t. He was comfortable and at peace last night– he was even a little happy. 

That was one thing he’d done that she hadn’t. He’d fallen asleep with Jin before, and on the sofa with Mai. He thought better of commenting on such a thing, “It’s okay,” Zuko dismissed honestly with a warm smile, a bit touched that she’d never kept any other lover over night, or held them all night like she had with him. Though, she’d all but been forced to, having married him and been stuffed in a one-bed igloo with him. It brought a smile to his face, nonetheless. 

“I hope you slept well,” Zuko murmured, his hand trailing down her arm. “What… what time do we have to be back to the palace?”

* * *

“I don’t know…” Katara tickled down his sternum, then traced the grooves in his abdomen. “Soon, I imagine. They’ll want to make sure we have _sustenance_ for the rest of the day since we’re all but imprisoned in this hut.” 

She smirked and settled down, her cheek on Zuko’s chest. “We’ll have lots of hours to fill,” Katara said coyly. She flattened her hand on his stomach, her thumb making circles near his hip bone. “I’m sure we’ll found ways to entertain each other, though.” 

Smiling like a tease, Katara lifted her head and looked him over. She squeezed his waist, then sat up and swung her leg over his hips, mirroring the position they’d been in the night before, only this time, she wasn’t nervous. 

Katara bent forward to kiss him. She nipped his lip, pulled his hair. She could’ve pushed it further, ground her hips down into his, make him writhe then whine… but, she stopped and straightened, looking down at him with a thoughtful smile.

“I want to learn about you, Zuko,” she murmured after she’d caught her breath. “I want to know everything that makes you shake and moan… but—” Katara moved her hand over Zuko’s chest, tapping just above his heart. “I want to know _you.”_  

* * *

Zuko leaned into her kiss, moving his hands to sit on her waist with a squeeze. He smirked at her boldness, his nervousness from before gone. He ran his hands up and down her waist, watching her with a warm and weary smile. They hardly knew each other, and Zuko thought that might make things feel empty between them, but it didn’t. He still, somehow, felt warm– and close to her, even if they only really had a spark and physical intimacy at this point. He longed for more, and was somehow hopeful for it. But, for now, he certainly was not complaining about the latter. 

Her lips were sweet and soft, and he could’ve spent the day cooped up in bed kissing her. When she sat up and spoke, he blushed, but he wore a pleased, lopsided smile. His eyes were gentle, his guard down in a rare moment. No one could ever elicit such vulnerability from him so soon. That lead Zuko to thinking that perhaps already they had more of a connection than he knew. 

“I want to know you too, Katara,” Zuko replied gently, gone already with the formality in a matter of a little over twenty-four hours. “Every bit of you… inside and out,” he added, his hands stroking her sides with a small smile. “You can ask me anything you’d like… I’ll be honest with you… I promise. If we’re going to be married… we should know each other. I want us to know each other. I- I want that for us.”

* * *

Katara smiled as pure happiness warmed her veins. She hadn’t expected something so easy, so vulnerable after only a day or two together, but Zuko wasn’t anything she expected either. 

All her life she’d grown up hearing about fire and it’s ferocity. Firebenders were ruthless— they tortured, maimed killed, all in the name of their nation’s progress. She’d fought them herself, cut them down in cold blood, taken control of their blood. 

Katara wondered if Zuko even knew, if he had ever heard about her many feats during the war. She doubted he had… because where the Fire Nation’s soldiers were ferocious and cruel, Zuko was tender and pure. Like her, he probably saw the pain of war, he probably did what was necessary, but never with malicious intent. 

He didn’t have the face of malevolence— her fingertips skimmed up from his chest, over his jaw, then her thumb traced the most prevalent of his scars— but he’d seen it. 

She bit her lip, thinking she shouldn’t ask him. With her next breath, Katara couldn’t hold back. 

“Tell me about this,” she said. “On our first day together, you said it was caused by a training incident. I doubted you… and last night, you threw off-hand that it was your father. I want to know the truth.” 

* * *

Zuko should have known that her first question would be about the scar that maimed his flesh. His face was half ruined, practically gone, and replaced with a mangled nightmarish appearance that had children staring as their mothers scolded them for it. He’d heard murmurs of pity or saw grimaces of disgust. He wondered what Katara thought of it, truly, that she wouldn’t say. She mustn’t have been discussed, at least, because she cupped the ridged, grotesque part of his ugly face as tenderly as caressing a newborn, but only with acceptance, not pity. 

Zuko reached up and gently cupped her wrist. He looked into her eyes, his shifting from lighthearted warmth to heavy sadness. His thumb traced her wrist gently, and he let out a deep sigh. His heart tugged, and he worried about the truth. He wondered what his new wife would think of a branded boy whose father thought he was worth no more than dirt, or less. 

“Okay,” Zuko finally spoke, letting his eyes that held such baggage flutter shut before opening to meet her curious ones. “I’ll tell you,” he said, nervously. Zuko had never disclosed this story before, not to anyone. But, she was his wife now, she deserved to know the tale– he’d just promised honesty to her. 

“When I was thirteen years old, my uncle, who was then fire lord, went on a business trip to Ba Sing Se to negotiate things amidst the end of the war,” began Zuko, his eyes drifting off to the window. The snow was easier to look at as memories flashed in his mind. He could smell the scent of burning flesh, hear his own screams, hear his father’s laughter, hear the roar of the arena. Zuko felt sick, and one hand absentmindedly clutched the covers. 

“I wanted to sit in on one of my father’s meetings. I wanted to be involved in rebuilding the Fire Nation after the war… I didn’t realize my father was so anti… peace,” Zuko relayed, his stomach feeling tight with the ugly memories and wonder over his barred father. “I just wanted to be informed… but my father started talking about this plan to frame… your tribe, actually, and kill our people… stir things… I stood up, said it was sick to do that,” Zuko whispered. “My uncle knew nothing of this, my father’s treachery or anything… all while my dad tried to undo things, my uncle was building it up…”

“But… I was disrespectful, disgraceful to him… so he challenged me to an agni kai, a Fire Nation, firebending, sacred duel,” Zuko explained, his hands now starting to shake with how vivid it was becoming. He feared her judgment, he feared the recollection. “I thought, since I yelled at the general, he’d challenge me… but it was my father… I couldn’t fight my own dad, so I begged him for mercy, but he refused… it was a public duel, and he burnt me as punishment– then damned me to banishment,” Zuko whispered, his voice erie and distant, his eyes showing the weight of the world in them with such pain. 

“My uncle, luckily…” Zuko began, but his throat was now thick, and he was ashamed at the croaky way his voice came out, and he shook his head. “Uncle came home early by coincidence… I screamed for him… Uncle was disgusted, so he locked my dad in prison for life for treason and harm of a child… I was in my room for three days with no medical treatment… I was so scared, but my uncle took me to the infirmary, healed me– saved my life,” Zuko explained. “That’s the truth… that’s what happened,” Zuko told her honestly, but the story was missing so much of the graphic detail that would grip anyone’s heart like a snare and snatch the air from their lungs.

“I’m– I’m so so sorry.”

* * *

“Why are _you_ sorry?” Katara questioned gently. She grazed her thumb the edge of his scar, skimming the line between ruined tissue and soft, ivory skin. “You should not be sorry.” 

Her eyes pulled from the old wound to Zuko’s gaze. She could read pain in it, pain and sorrow and fear that she’d run away from now that she knew. Katara tilted her head, still cupping his cheek. Her lips trembled as she searched for what to say, what would reassure him.

Finally, “I’ve learned that scars tell stories, but those stories don’t define us. You clearly come from a harsh lineage, Prince Zuko, but you are kind.” She smiled warmly, then it faded. 

_“I’m_ sorry if I hurt you… by asking about such a painful thing.” Katara shifted off him, then lay on her back, her eyes on the hut’s ceiling. “I- I don’t think I’ll ever understand how a father could be so cruel.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at his wife, taken aback by her sense of understanding. He’d never relayed the tale before, and hoped his detail wasn’t too much. He leaned into her touch with reverence, his eyes fluttering shut as softly as a feather fluttering down from a tree. The skin was rough, callused, and the nerve endings were all dead, so he could only feel the pressure on the underlying skin, not her delicate fingers’ brush. But, he knew. He could sense that her touch was ginger, but he didn’t feel pity from her, only acceptance. He appreciated that more than she’d ever know. 

He opened his eyes to meet her soft and understanding, blue ones. He reached up and cupped her neck, relishing in the intimate moment. Zuko was surprised at how quickly they’d bonded, but didn’t want to question it, or bother to fill his head with its usual doubt. This was good– they were spouses. This is how it should be, he assured himself as his thumb caressed her neck. When she spoke of stories and heritages, he thought of how someone had hurt her, too. They’d wounded her, marked her, in much of the same bigotry and hatred that his father had. His hand ran down over her ribs, over the white, beveled mark. He ran his index finger along there tenderly, but his gaze never left hers. 

“You didn’t hurt me, Katara… not at all,” he assured her as she rolled over on her back, and he propped himself up on his elbow to look at her, solemness in his eyes. “And… I– I promise you I would never hurt our child- or our children. I won’t ever harm them… I know… I know what my family has done, and… the history… it looks bad, based on what you have to go on… but… I would never, ever hurt you or any child… let alone any of our own.”

Zuko looked away then, lying on his back once more, his face full of fret. “I must admit… I fear fatherhood… I fear becoming him… but I do know I’d never hurt a child… especially my own. I would never hurt you either, Katara. That would be unwise, besides,” he said with a laugh. “Everyone knows you’re a master waterbender,” he said with a smirk, glancing at her again as he reached for her hand, “But, that’s not really why I wouldn’t harm you… I just… I don’t have it in me. I… I hope that you can trust me– believe me– but if you can’t… I hope that I can come to prove it to you through my actions as… as your husband… and as the new prince here.”

* * *

Katara turned her head towards him, her gaze sweeping over his brow and down the ridge of his nose. She smiled at how his features scrunched in worry, because he didn’t understand that his secret fears were exactly why she trusted him already. 

She didn’t relay this to him; however, Katara took his hand and the mattress and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to stress, Zuko. I believe you wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less a child… and no matter my beliefs, I have the ability to prevent pregnancy so there’s no sense in fretting right now.” 

“We don’t have to do anything until we’re ready,” Katara assured him. “We can take a week, a year, five years— whenever we’re ready, that’s when we’ll try for children, but I won’t push you into something you don’t want.” 

* * *

Zuko sighed in relief, and smiled at her, “Good,” he whispered, squeezing her hand back, and moving her hand to press to his lips. He held her hand close against his chest, and looked over at her warmly. 

“I do want children,” he assured her, “I’m just worried… but I want them. I… I love children,” Zuko admitted with a laugh. “I’ve always wanted some of my own, but I’m glad to know we don’t have to be in any hurry… that does put my mind at ease– I’m glad to have that pressure off, for sure,” Zuko explained. 

“It’s not like that at home… Lu Ten and Princess Yue will be forced to start trying immediately… they want the kids as fast as possible… two in a row, at least… an heir and a spare,” Zuko muttered darkly. “They worry about assassination, even with my uncle alive and well and Lu Ten too… and me, if they were desperate, even,” Zuko muttered. “That’s all I was to my father, anyway… a spare in a long line of them,” he said with a dark chuckle. 

“In any regard… I’m glad to hear it’s different here, more humane, I suppose,” Zuko stated, smirking, “A lot of things seem to be.”

* * *

Katara pulled her eyes from him, looking at the ceiling once more. “Well… it’s, um…” she took her hand back and fidgeted with the blankets, weighing the truth against a little white lie. 

“It’s a little… complicated,” she murmured after a long silence, “in some regards.” Katara sat up to look at him, but found she only dared to stare at the opposite wall, her face turned away from his. 

“The Southern Water Tribe, my people… they’ll require a waterbending heir from us.” Katara swallowed, pursed her lips, then went on. “Any children we have that are firebenders will be passed by in favor of the firstborn waterbender… and if there’s no waterbender…” 

She stopped and bit her tongue, hoping it’d never come to that point. Katara had little knowledge of bending lineage and which elements won out in a child’s blood, but her grandmother always said it was a spiritual endeavor. 

Perhaps, if she prayed enough… “Well, it won’t matter,” Katara told him, finally looking back over her shoulder and smiling. “We’ll have a waterbender, and things will be fine.” 

* * *

When the air turned, Zuko turned to face her. He was worried at her hesitance, and knew that it meant trouble. He watched her with patience though, still remembering that despite how they’d bonded, he was still a penance. He still had to behave himself, lest he forget. Zuko’s hand gripped the top of the blankets in worry. 

She looked away from him when he went to look at her, and that further settled his anxiety and the fire prince bit his lip, tilting his head then to try to read through her before she finally and slowly began to speak. 

Only waterbenders. Zuko hadn’t even thought of that. In the Fire Nation, as Lu Ten was still somewhat a penance, they’d likely accept a waterbender on the throne. Nonbenders had reigned as fire lord before, and this special exception was likely due– due to the fact that the Fire Nation were the ones apologizing. They were to mix the bloodline there, simmer things down, it would show further peace on their behalf if they allowed a waterbender on the throne. His uncle probably hoped for it, though Zuko would fear for his child to be killed if they were  a waterbender on a Fire Nation throne. 

Zuko shook his head, worry coursing through him. “Then what? What will happen if there’s no waterbender?” Zuko asked. Would he be sent away? Would she divorce him? Would he be banished? Would he be shunned- shamed? Worse, would their children be shamed? What would happen to the firebenders? “What would happen to our firebending children? They… they wouldn’t be harmed would they?” Zuko asked in concern. “Will… will there be… _trouble_ for them?” Zuko spoke, watching his wording carefully. 

“Nonbenders? Can nonbenders be crowned? Your father– he- he’s a nonbender? And, you said you are the last in your tribe, so… so your brother, who’d have been crowned– he was a nonbender? We can have a nonbender on the throne… right? That will be okay?” he asked nervously. “I just… I don’t… I don’t want to bring a child into the world to suffer… I… what would become of them? Would they be better off… going to my uncle? I… I know it’s far off now… but… I’m sorry… I’m sorry for probing you- I just… I worry. I- I apologize.”

* * *

“Zuko…” Katara craned her neck to look at him, reading distress all over his face. She turned around, facing him, and cradled his scarred cheek once more to comfort him. “Husband. Look at me. Look at me and tell me that I seem like the type of woman who’d let her children be mistreated.” 

She licked her lips, her brows furrowing in a troubled line. “If you were anyone else _I’d be angry_. My actions, my kindness, and my grace should all speak for themselves… but you don’t know me.” 

“Firebenders or not, our children will be part of me, and I will cherish them,” she murmured. “If we have a firebender, a waterbender, and a nonbender, they will be treated equally, with dignity, with _love._ I do not play favorites, as every child has their own unique talents and traits that deserve to be encouraged and fostered.”

Katara brushed her thumb over his scar once, then moved her fingers into his hair, playing with the silky strands. “The only reason their bending would matter is to determine the line of succession. That is all. It will not change how I treat them or how my people treat them.” 

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered, looking at her and leaning into her touch. The worry eased off his face and he sighed, slight shame overtaking him. She’d just given him such benefit of the doubt- and he’d said things with harsh implications. He worried more of what her country would do, not her. He didn’t think her to be cruel, but he forgot of the difference here– that harsh sages wouldn’t rip children away and disregard them based on things beyond their control. 

The favoritism struck a cord with him, too. It had to do with a bending a lot as well– his father greatly favored Azula to the point of telling him every day, mostly because Azula was a prodigal bender, and he was just a little good. But, that wasn’t good enough. Nothing terrified him more than hurting his own in the same way, but he’d unloaded enough onto Katara for one day to start unpacking that information onto her heart. 

“I know you wouldn’t… I was more scared for the– the courtiers and such… I’m having trouble adjusting to the culture here, I guess… it’s still so new… I didn’t mean to say you’d ever harm… or let harm come to any children of yours,” Zuko tried to assure her. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page about raising kids already, though,” Zuko said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m glad to hear it– that your people will be good to them too, no matter what,” Zuko stated. “I wish I could say the same for my own… but… I’m afraid prejudice may behold them,” he added. “It’s good– better than good– that we don’t have to worry about that here… whenever the time comes.”

Zuko let out another shaky sigh, and rolled on his side to face her, his hand reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear as he continued to soak her in. She was like a portrait, and he’d never tire of looking at her face– the only thing that pulled his eyes from hers was a sudden rapping at the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Was it possible she already loved him? 

Katara swallowed sharply, still hidden by a column in the palace. Zuko was a few paces away in the middle of the foyer, and making dragons out of fire for the five-year-old daughter of one of the councilors. A joyous smile was spread across the girl’s face, and Zuko’s smile, though shy and small, was just as happy. 

She’d gotten used to seeing it as of late. They’d been married for just over a month, and every day seemed better than the last. Their first week together ushered in a deep understanding of one another. Their first month brought a deep appreciation for what the other offered, for the other’s beliefs, culture, and body. 

Was that love? She didn’t know. Katara had never fallen like this, hard and quick and breathtakingly. She’d never fallen at all. 

Even with her inexperience, she knew it was too soon to tell him. If it didn’t scare him off, it’d at least make him laugh. And Katara couldn’t stomach the thought of her feelings being mocked; as strong as she was, she was too fragile for that. 

So, she ignored the fluttering in her belly and stepped out from behind the column, approaching Zuko with purposed steps. 

“I’m glad to see you kept busy,” she called, smiling. “Councilman Kuron had to discuss the allotment of every single copper piece… he gets like this before the yearly Summit.”  

* * *

Zuko was surprised at how content he was in the kingdom of ice. The people were welcoming, for the most part. Some courtiers gave him harsh glares and muttered insults beneath their breath. He knew a lot of people talked— spread rumors about him, but he was used to those. They were more intimidating here, being in a position of disfavor, but he was confident Katara would side with him should anything arise. He trusted her, somehow, and she trusted him too. It was difficult for Zuko to trust people, but with Katara it wasn’t. In a mere matter of weeks, he offered her his trust. He was hardly afraid it was a mistake either. She hadnt given him any reason for doubt.

She was wonderful. He found himself mesmerized by her. Her smile, her laugh, her knack for benevolent rule, her intelligence, her bravery, her strength, her willpower, her leadership, her humor, and her kindness— even her stubborn streak. She was all and all a lovely, wonderful person. He was proud to call her his wife. He was proud to stand beside her. It was funny to think a month ago he was so afraid.

Even amidst the everyday to-and-fro, he found ways to smile. The children here made him happy, and had him yearning to start a family with Katara. He could tell he was going to fall in love with her– he didn’t know how or when, but he was falling for her, that he knew. He’d want to wait until then, but his daydreams consisted of children laughing on the sunny shores of Ember Island between Katara and himself. He’d love to take her there. Maybe someday they’d go together. 

Zuko loved the giggle of the rambunctious children as he blew dragons out into the air with his bending. They were allowed to be kids here. There were obviously children in the Fire Nation, but in the palace, the kids didn’t act like kids. It was drilled into them that they were basically child soldiers. There was no time for play, or laughing, or fun. All children should be entitled to a childhood, and Zuko was glad they seemed to be here– his children would be then, too.

Zuko spotted his wife from the corner of his eye, and ruffled the kids’ hair as he stood to go to her. “Kat!” Zuko exclaimed with a smile. She was always so busy with her Water Tribe duties, and he’d offer to help, but she’d always decline his help. Zuko embraced her briefly, pulling back with a warm smile, despite the air showing his breath from the cold. He was bundled up from head to toe.

“That’s okay. Was the meeting okay? Boring, I bet,” he spoke with a smirk in a low whisper, moving his hand to her back. He was surprised at how comfortable he was with her. His fear was gone. She was already his closest friend. He laughed at her mockery of the councilman, and gave her side a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m excited for the summit, stupid as that sounds,” Zuko remarked. “My uncle is coming, and my cousin… I’m so excited to see them again. I’ve missed them, and I’m so excited to introduce you. My uncle will love to meet you– he’ll love you, and so will Lu Ten. I’ll love to meet Yue, and Prince Rien, my sister’s husband. And, I’m excited to be speaking again… it’s been so long,” Zuko spoke, his gaze moving over to see the children again and he laughed. “They look so happy.”

* * *

“Well, they have a handsome, firebending prince to play with. What little girl wouldn’t be enthralled?” Katara laughed quietly, her cheeks turning pink as Zuko’s gaze left the kids and came back to her. His eyes were warm… they were always so warm. 

She swallowed. It had to be the fifth time in a minute that she did, but looking at him made her chest swell and a lump of happy tears build in her throat. She was so happy, shockingly so. Zuko was kind and soft around the edges; he treated her like she was _already_  queen—doting on her, loving on her. 

On top of it all, Katara admired him, respected him. She enjoyed him. He’d been put through as much as her due to the war and he was… tender, somehow. 

She smiled, slightly overwhelmed by the feelings that developed in just over a month, and took his arm. Together, they walked from the foyer in the depths of the palace. There was a greenhouse in the center, full of flowers and a bank of grass beside a coy fish pond. 

Katara sat on a bench, patting the space beside her. “I enjoy the meetings, actually,” she told him. “I’m going to take over for the chief someday… learning as much as I can interests me.”

“I think…” She shifted, turning towards him and taking his hands. “I think it’d be alright if you sat in on the meetings, but speaking… I don’t know.” Katara shook her head. “You- you don’t know the delicacies of our politics, you don’t know my people, and… I’m afraid they’d have trouble trusting you, Zuko.” 

* * *

Zuko always loved the greenhouse. It reminded him of home, and he had written to his uncle, asking for fire lily seeds, and every day the two of them went to the greenhouse to tend to the ones they planted there. It smelled like the fresh grounds at home– of sunshine, soil, and rain. Those were things never seen here in the Water Tribe, but it had its own beauty. It had glaciers, snow, mountains, and the icy ocean. It was beautiful for sure in its own right, and despite his hatred for the cold, Zuko was starting to become fond of the place, too. 

Not as fond as he was of Katara, however. He walked with her, arm-in-arm happily, joining her on the bench they always sat in together. “That’s very noble of you, Chieftess Katara,” Zuko spoke, bowing to her in play. “You’ll be an excellent chief one day… you have all the great makings of a leader,” he assured her– proud of her. Zuko had the utmost respect for her, and he admired her. She really would be a wonderful leader, and an excellent example to the world of how to reign. The people already adored her. He did, too.

He looked at her warmly when she took his hands, and he gave hers a tender squeeze. But, that respect he held so dearly for her never waved, but his feeling that it was mutual– did. He looked at her in confusion, shaking his head and dropping his hands from hers. Frustration pent up in his chest and he shook his head again, trying to talk himself out of getting angry. There were still stakes, he tried to tell himself. He and his wife were close– but the stakes were still high. He was so stubborn that it didn’t work– not this time. 

“Sit in on them? Like a child?” Zuko spoke, feeling patronized. “The summit is a gathering of all nations– I know about the Fire Nation and its relations with your tribe, I’m supposed to be the living representative and representation of it!” Zuko snapped. “I was a diplomat in my uncle’s council. I’m not stupid, I promise you,” Zuko stated firmly, angered that he was being treated like some piece of arm candy and nothing more. Though, he came here with expectations of being lucky to even be arm candy. He came here thinking he’d be all but spat on, thrown in alone in his own quarters, and ignored as a mere sperm donor. Maybe he’d been spoiled, that’s what the sages would say. He’d been too lucky to be granted the compassion he did. He got too comfortable. But, he didn’t care.

“Do they have trouble trusting me, or is it you?”

With that question, Zuko felt that maybe the voices of the sages in his head were right. That was likely a breach of submission he could pay for. He should have held his tongue. But, not holding his tongue was what earned him his scar, and haughtiness had always been his achilles’ heel.

* * *

“It is _me?”_  

Katara’s expression went from a peaceful smile to a confused frown to flat-out fury. She pulled her hands from his lap in an instant, fisting the heavy layers of her tunic in a bid to keep her bending under control. 

Zuko had yet to see any real display of her prowess, and Tui and La, when she was angry—

A hissed breath left her. She glared at him. “You think I don’t trust you. You think, based on what I’ve done, how I’ve acted, what I’ve said, that I don’t trust you?” It was a question that time, but Katara didn’t give Zuko a chance to respond. 

“I’ve given you… parts of me that no one has seen. Vulnerability and affection and… you think I don’t trust you.” Her eyes searched him, hurt cracking through the rage in her irises. 

She buried it in a snarl. “There are teenagers who know more about the Water Tribe’s politics than you, Prince Zuko. I just offered you the opportunity to learn by my side, so you may one day rule with me, but if you’re going to presume that your biased knowledge gleaned within the borders of a genocidal, war-mongering nation is enough to swim here, rather than sink—” 

Katara’s stare was so fierce it had to be ugly, tearing into him with all the harshness of her land. She pursed her lips, struggling for just the right thing to say, the right way to wound him— because she was hurting. 

How could Zuko think she didn’t trust him? 

She hissed through her nose, looked away and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe my father wanted to speak with me after the meeting. I see you for supper, Prince Zuko.” 

* * *

Zuko quieted as soon as she spoke. He knew he’d crossed a line before he even spoke. He didn’t have anything to say, or rather, he had too much, so he shut up. He had no place speaking at the summit, and he had no place speaking now. Katara was so kind to him he’d forgotten _his_ place. He was a penance prince– a penance husband, sent on behalf of the Fire Nation as a gift, and an _apology_ for the war. Apologies didn’t try to weasel their way into speaking at summits. Her kindness could be pulled out from under his feet in a second. With a snap of her fingers, she could make his life a miserable, utter hell, and he’d better not forget it because she was kind when he behaved. 

Anxiety filled his chest. He’d never fought with her before. He hadn’t planned on it, but that seemed silly. No marriage went without an argument– no relationship _at all_ went without any fights. But, the power imbalance made it shaky. He never thought he’d have the guts to retort in any way that would cause a two-way fight. Now, he was nervous. He didn’t know how long this would go, how she would act, how she would respond. He could guess, based on how he knew her. Better judgement said she’d accept his apology and forgive him warmly after she cooled down, but his anxious doubts had him worrying. The last time he’d begged for mercy, a blast of flames belted his face. 

She spoke condescendingly about teenagers and how he knew nothing- and spoke of this grandiose opportunity, how lucky he was. He should agree, he was a penance. He was owed absolutely nothing. She could treat him at will. The treaty had no specifications on the treatment of the penance spouse, other than producing offspring. That was the only stipulation– in encouragement of peaceful relations. But still, he felt degraded, but this time, he piped down about it, he stared at the flowers on the ground and his hands clutched the satin of his pants with nerves and withheld frustration as she spoke of his nation as if every one of his people were savage barbarians. 

He didn’t even look up when she announced her furious departure. He had no words. He shouldn’t have had any before. He had no place. “I’m sorry, Princess Katara,” was all Zuko could get out, but she still stormed right out that door. 

Zuko stayed, watching the flowers and butterflies in the greenhouse after she left. He tended to the fire lilies alone, and his hands shook. She had a temper, he knew that. But, she’d never used it on him. He didn’t know what to expect– not exactly, anyway. How long would she be mad? Would she tell her father? Would Chief Hakoda be angry with him? Would she send him from their chambers? Everyone would talk. 

Zuko was nervous to leave the greenhouse. Surely the courtiers saw Katara storm from the place, and suspected trouble in paradise. He didn’t want to face them and their gossip-awaiting, alit ears and eager faces. He didn’t want to chance the corridors with her angered glare passing his in the hall. Finally, Zuko got over his nerves and scampered off quickly to the gallery room. He didn’t tell anyone, not even Katara, but he painted there. He was a talented artist, but wasn’t even aware. He just knew he found enjoyment in it, and it calmed him. He found relief in it. He’d begun painting fire lilies in the wild– at home. He was going to give it to her, but even if he was done the painting now, she’d probably use it as kindle wood if he presented it to her. 

Zuko left it with just the warm colors for now, and checked the clock. He was dismayed to see it was dinner time. He weighed his options and which would have steeper consequences. He considered faking illness, but decided that might be worse, and would only delay everything. Zuko groaned beneath his breath and meekly walked to the dining hall. 

He opened the large, extravagant doors to the big, echoing, marble room with the long table. It smelled delicious, and Zuko was starving, especially having skipped lunch. Usually, he’d be bouncing at the edge of his seat for dinner, but now he came in with his head low. Only Hakoda was there now, and Zuko bowed to him, greeting him for the evening and sitting there– wondering what the man knew– and when Katara would show… if she would. 

“Good evening, Chief Hakoda… did… did you have a nice day?”

* * *

The Chieftain glanced over the edge of a scroll, his eyes crinkling at the edges as Zuko stuttered and sat down. Hakoda put his reading materials aside and chuckled, “My daughter does not get her temper from me, Prince Zuko. You can relax.” 

He smiled across the table at his son-in-law, watching the young man’s face shift with apprehension. Zuko kept looking at the doors, waiting and likely wondering when the princess would barge in with the same fury Hakoda had quelled hours ago in his office. 

Well… _tried_ to quell. He never had much luck in the immediate aftermath, but Katara’s temper was just the same as his late wife’s, and Hakoda knew that space and time were always needed. 

He left Zuko stew for a moment longer, wagging his finger for the staff to bring in their meal. “Katara went off with Pakku,” Hakoda said, once they’d both been served. “She likes to spar when she’s upset, and the old master said some of the bending students could use a lesson or two from his star pupil.” 

“Did Katara tell you there hadn’t been a waterbender in my family for three generations? Her great-great grandmother was the last,” Hakoda said. “We named Katara after her, actually, not knowing that our daughter would grow up to be as prodigious as her namesake.”

He smiled warmly, emotion overtaking his face as he looked down. “She’s going to become the queen, Prince Zuko. She’s incredibly talented and dedicated… I- I’m beyond proud of her, and I hope… I hope you can see that everything she does is with good intentions. She never means to slight a person.”

* * *

Zuko was still nervous as he sat amongst his father-in-law, the chief of the all powerful Southern Water Tribe. Zuko calmed a bit at Hakoda’s admission, but still kept quiet, worrying. He toyed with the napkin at his place, and smiled unsurely, nodding at the chief’s sentiments.

“I suppose I may have a bit of a temper myself,” admitted Zuko shyly. “I grew frustrated and misspoke… I shouldn’t have,” he explained. “I’m sorry if I offended your daughter, Chief Hakoda. It was not my intention, and… I acted out of turn. I know my place. It won’t happen again. I promise,” Zuko told the older man, but was too ashamed and felt too degraded by his position to meet his eyes.

“Katara is a lovely name and fitting for such a lovely person,” Zuko replied. “I can see why you’re so proud. I admire her so, too,” Zuko spoke honestly, glad when the food came out, but he didn’t touch his plate out of courtesy, even when Hakoda dug in.

“Excuse me, Chief Hakoda— Will… will Princess Katara be joining us or is she going to remain training with Master Pakku?”

* * *

“I’m joining you now.” Katara swept in through the servant’s entrance, discarding her cloak into the arms of a waiting staff member. Another rushed in to set her place, the seat across from Zuko, which she took with a quick glance his way. 

He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were steadily focused on the table like he was afraid. This bothered her more than their brief fight. Katara grimaced bitterly, waved away the servant with the sea prune soup, and crossed her arms. 

Her father, always trying to soothe her, jabbed his chin in her direction. “I was just telling Prince Zuko about your grandmother, Katara.” 

“Oh?” She gave Hakoda a curious look, “Well, it seems the story bored him since his plate of food is holding all his interest.” Katara trained her eyes on Zuko, her lips in a tight line. “Or is there a problem with the meal, your highness? You haven’t touched it.” 

* * *

Zuko all but flinched when Katara swept in the door. He looked over to Hakoda anxiously, as if the chief could save him from his wife’s wrath. His eyes were unwavering on the plate before him until she sat down with her own. He glanced up at her cursorily, but averted his gaze when she looked up. 

Zuko kept watching the steam raise on his hot plate, and his stomach growled before he blushed, but he still didn’t touch his food. When she spoke, he all but froze. “N-No… there’s no issue,” Zuko replied, picking up his fork. “I- I was just waiting for you to arrive, Princess Katara, as not to be rude,” he assured, then turned to his father-in-law. “Chief Hakoda, it was a lovely story,” Zuko remarked, finally taking a bite to eat before returning his gaze to the plate. 

“Dinner is delicious. I was starving,” Zuko complimented with a small smile, taking another bite, his demeanor hesitant. “Thank you.”

* * *

“And I’m the one who doesn’t trust you…” Katara glared across the table, seething all over again despite the hours spent burying novice benders with snow.

“Is that right? Is that what you said?” Her fingers curled around her biceps, her nails making half-moon shapes on her skin. With a single, sharp breath, the tea in her cup froze, then shattered the delicate glass. 

Hakoda shuffled to his feet after a long beat of silence, gathering his scroll and taking the bowl of soup. “I’m… going to let the both of you talk… best of luck to you, Prince Zuko.” 

Katara felt her father’s gaze, but she stared down at the shards of porcelain. Her father cleared his throat, then chuckled, “My darling, don’t kill your husband. I’m afraid I won’t know what to tell the Fire Nation.” 

She heard Zuko gasp, but Katara smiled slightly, watching her father leave the dining room with his own, amused grin. When her attention returned to her husband, Katara offered a pinch of kindness: “He’s kidding. Clearly.”  

“I’ve only ever killed in the war, but I suppose you’ll vilify me for that, too,” Katara uncrossed her arms, shifted in her seat and leaned forward. “Since _you_ don’t trust _me.”_

* * *

Zuko almost groaned when Hakoda abandoned him to face the fury of the heiress to his throne. He watched with a frown as Hakoda left the room, clapping his shoulder, and Zuko gulped. She’d never been angry at him before- especially not furious. He’d seen her angry at diplomats, even her father, but he’d never felt her anger directed at him personally. 

He heard the door close when Hakoda exited, and Zuko looked at her again. “I’ve all but killed in war… essentially,” Zuko admitted. “I helped plot to end my grandfather’s reign… which meant his life… I was prepared to take my own father’s… and sister’s… to stop the war,” he explained, looking away somberly. He hated that. He’d never taken life with his bare hands. He hoped to Agni he never had to. But, he did have blood on his hands, for sure. That was _war_. 

Zuko exhaled shakily the sharp intake of breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. “Katara… I’m sorry I lost my temper in the greenhouse. I misspoke, and I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of that… it’s how I earned myself this,” he explained, gesturing to his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… I would never mean that… and I didn’t mean to anger you either,” he assured her. “I’m… I’m just a little frustrated because for so long I had a prominent role in my country’s policymaking and foreign affairs. I shouldn’t have been so arrogant to think I would have… or deserved any place at a table in another nation. I… I recognize that I’m here on a penance, and… I should be more… more appreciative and not allow myself to take for granted the kindness you’ve already shown,” Zuko told her, fidgeting with his hands nervously. 

“I… I hope you can forgive me,” Zuko spoke lowly, moving his hands to his lap then and looking down at them. 

* * *

 “You don’t seem to understand why I’m upset, Prince Zuko, despite my having said it twice now.” Katara rested her hands on the table, thrumming her fingers on the wood. The shattered teacup rattled. 

She sighed, tried to start with the beginning of her thoughts, “In the greenhouse, you asked if I trusted you. I—” But, her words stalled and Katara bit down on her tongue. It hurt, just enough to keep her from crying. 

“I’ve been your wife for just over a month,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost deflated. “In that time, I’ve opened up my home to you, shown you my land, let you adapt to our life here. This morning, I was welcoming you further into that life. I wanted you to have a chance at learning beside me, at developing an understanding of how our politics work.” 

Katara paused for a moment, her eyes flicking up to his. “And then you asked if _I trusted you.”_

As she said it, her anger from the morning, from the afternoon, from the entrance she made coming into the dining room returned. Her blue eyes narrowed, sharpened. 

“As if throwing you into a world you don’t understand would show trust. As if ignoring that you’ve been in the South for five weeks and hoping for the best would show faith. I was trying to help you, Zuko!” 

She glared across the table— 

“You don’t know that no matter how I treat you behind closed doors, how high above me you are placed in our marriage, you will never be my equal in the courts. You are an outsider. I am the heir!” 

—but where her voice was filled with daggers and ice, her cruel gaze shattered. She blinked, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears in her eyes, feeling her lashes dampen. 

Katara breathed sharply, then sank back in her seat. Her palm flattened over her chest. “My people trust me, Zuko. They look to me, and when they look at me, they will see my trust in you. They will give you their respect and their love, _like I have.”_

“I was trying to help you this morning,” she explained. “You were making a rash presumption and I was trying to prevent you from breaching a hundred different customs. But, you came away, all hot-headed and angry, with the belief that I don’t trust you.” 

Katara swiped her fingers across her cheek as the first tear slipped free. “I think you don’t trust me. That’s why I’m angry.” 

* * *

Zuko noticed the crack in her voice, and that made his mood shift entirely. His fear became concern and his anxiety became real remorse. She was upset– it wasn’t that he’d “talked back to her”. It was about something more genuine. It was fully, not simply partially, as he presumed, it was fully about his snide remark on trust that he hadn’t even meant really. He thought she was mostly angry at his attitude– and underlying was the trust, but it must’ve been the opposite, if she even was upset with him about that at all. 

Maybe he should be honest with her, as she was being with him. That scared him. What if honesty gave him more harm than good. He listened to her voice her mind quietly, soaking it in as he rung his hands out in his lap. “Katara…” he stated, dropping the title, and opting for the more risky route of honesty as he swallowed thickly. 

“I trust you, Katara,” he stated sincerely, “But, there is a part of me that is still wary,” he whispered. “I know you wouldn’t harm me… but I’m still the penance prince. I’m wary of your courtiers… the things diplomats whisper about me when you’re not around. They say wretched things about me, and… that’s fine, I can handle it, but…  I’m scared of their influence, and I know of the power imbalance that is the nature of this treaty– which is neither of our faults, but… it’s there,” Zuko tried to explain without hurting her. “

You’ve given me no reason to doubt you. This morning, even, I was thinking about how I was… happy, not just content anymore… happy,” he told her, a small smile forming on his face, “And, that’s entirely thanks to you,” Zuko stated. “I trust you, Katara… I’ve never told anyone about my scar, you’re the only one, and it was within a day I felt that,” he tried to assure her. “That’s something special itself, I promise you.”

“I… I hope you can understand… my hesitance,” Zuko spoke. “I do understand that you had my best interest at heart, and I’m sorry I reacted so rashly and hurt you, Katara. I didn’t want to– or mean to, and I’m sorry. I care about you… I care about you so much,” he expressed earnestly. “But, I… I was frustrated because the summit is a world meeting. I know I’ll never be anything in the eyes of leadership. You’re the future queen. I know to the South I will never have a say, and maybe that’s why I’m a little… I don’t know… upset? I just… not because of you, at all… you’ve treated me with nothing but respect, but… a lot of your people in political roles… I’m like a doll… I’m like arm candy, and that’s all, or it feels that way, and… I know that that’s a harsh way of putting the reality. As a penance spouse, I am really just supposed to be arm candy who makes a baby… it’s only you that’s changed that for me, but it’s not so to the diplomats.”

“I felt the summit I would finally get my chance to show I’m more than a dumb figurepiece. I have a brain. My uncle will be there, and he will be speaking, and I thought I would get my chance– and I was frustrated and upset when I found out that wouldn’t be the case, and I acted out like a child, and… Katara, I’m sorry,” Zuko explained, his heart aching as he watched her tear fall. 

He never wanted to see her cry. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, wanting to embrace her. “Please believe me when I tell you I’m very happy with you, and I care for you very, very deeply, Katara,” he whispered, wanting to wipe away that tear or kiss it off her cheek. She was too lovely to watch cry. It hurt too much. “Katara… I’m sorry… please– won’t you forgive me? Can… can you understand? I know I was wrong, but… please. Try to see where I was coming from in the first place– that… that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

* * *

When Zuko fell quiet, Katara found herself silent as well. Her gaze blurred on the broken teacup once again, her mind processing only the white shapes— it reminded her of waves. She blinked and reached for a piece, twirling it in her fingers.

“I never wanted you feel like a penance, Zuko. You aren’t…” she stated, finally looking up from her fidgeting. “You’ve never been a penance to me.”

Katara dropped the shard of porcelain and crossed her arms. It was still a defense mechanism, a wall she could build between herself and him. Vulnerability wasn’t her strongest suit, not when it touched on matters of the heart, but to Zuko, she’d given away more of her heart than she ever meant to.

He knew silly things. He knew that her favorite color was blue even though she was surrounded by it and that she had a slight fear of geese because one had pecked her forehead as a kid. He knew that she couldn’t sleep without blankets, that she liked to hold hands no matter the setting, that she was cold until her cup of tea in the morning. And… Zuko knew darker things.

She showed him the secret nook in the library, where she’d only ever been with her mother. She shared more about her brother, about his life and his laugh and his grisly death. She told him that she kissed her father’s cheek every night before bed because she had an irrational fear of losing him like all the rest.

For him, Katara did the same. She listened to tales about his life back home. She sat with him while he painted, watching images come into being with every stroke. She encouraged his daydreams and comforted the nightmares as they came.

Katara felt that she knew him. She thought they were happy… and they seemed to be, until right then. She sighed and shifted, meeting Zuko’s ever patient gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “I- I didn’t know. I had no idea you were feeling like this. We’ve— everything has seemed so easy and light, and I guess it has been. What’s heavy about flirting and laughing and sex?”

She snorted like she’d made a joke, but it fell flat. Katara tried to blink away fresh tears, fighting to speak against a deep-seeded ache in her chest.

“You are not a penance to me, Zuko. I hope… I hope you know that. I need you to know that,” she said earnestly. “I enjoy every day with you, and every evening. I care about you, more than I ever thought I would, but if you… when things are tense, if you feel like you can’t be honest with me… that’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”

“I- I want a real marriage, Zuko. I want to be your best friend and I want you to be mine. I want to fall in love and build a family and have this inseparable, unconditional bond with you… but we’re going to disagree. We’re going to be unhappy sometimes and argue, maybe even fight. You have to know that you can do that with me. You’re not a penance to me.”

“I’ll even prove it…” She licked her lips as tears streaked down her cheeks and wet them. Katara wiped them away as quickly as she could, looking embarrassed. “You can have my seat on the council at the Summit… or, we’ll share it really, because you can’t exactly unseat the princess, but I’ll let you speak in my place. I promise. I want to do this for you.”

* * *

Zuko looked up when she all but spilled her heart to him. His eyes began to water despite himself. He swallowed thickly as he took it all in, every word she spoke to him. His heart swelled and warmed, and a blush brightened his pale face and a smile soon followed. He was going to spill the same to her, tell her that he wanted all the same. He wanted to fall in love, Be her best friend, have a family out of love not just necessity, be connected with her. But, what stopped him from spilling it all was her offer.

He was already touched, his eyes watering, and his smile bright. He was hopeful then, and so happy. But, when she offered to let him speak at the summit, he stopped— stared. Then, without being able to hold them back, his cheek matched hers. Tears fell down his cheek, and he laughed, then lunged himself to her.

Zuko pushed the tears off his face stubbornly with pride. She hadn’t seen him _really_ cry before- until now. She hadn’t seen how his tear duct was damaged and tears only came from one side. She hadn’t seen this part of him, but maybe that was a part of what she was saying. Maybe he shouldn’t hide it with such shame.

Zuko wrapped his arms around her tightly, tucking his head in her shoulder with a tender chuckle. He held her close, taking her in, and relishing in how nice it felt to have her in his arms. “You don’t have to do that, Katara,” whispered Zuko, moving to kiss away her tears as she sat before their unfinished meals at the long, mahogany table.

“But, Agni… thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling his cheek affectionately against hers as he pulled her back into an embrace. “Thank you… thank you… I’m sorry,” he whispered, clutching her hair.

“I want it too… I want it so badly. I want to— to be yours and for you to be mine, in more than in name… I want us to want it and feel it, and I want it all. I want to fall in love, have you as my closest most trusted friend, and— I want a family that we have for more than heirs— because we want them, and… I want you… Katara, I think I’m falling for you, and it scared me before, but not anymore.”

Zuko pulled back to look at her, his eyes shimmering. “Because I do trust you, I do. Speaking at the summit would mean the world to me, but I was being rash,” he confessed. “I cannot risk world politics and you and your father’s stances and roles… but agni… that you’re willing. It means everything.”

* * *

 

“Do you?” Katara asked, cupping his cheeks. “Do you really? Becuase things have been easy. We haven’t faced anything scary or trying, anything that would actually test trust… and I wouldn’t blame you if your trust were only partial.” 

She stroked his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs, which she could read his mind on this. “All I want I want is for you to be happy here, and if that means bigger steps or certain changes… I’ll take them and make them.” 

“We can work on a speech together,” Katara offered. “We can speak together, so you won’t have to worry about broaching traditions or policies, but you’ll feel valuable at the same time. Just…” 

Katara slid her hands from his face to his chest, folding them over his heartbeat with a tense sigh. “Be honest with me, okay? I—”

She stopped herself before she said too much, before she gave away parts of her soul she couldn’t get back. It wasn’t that she’d never let him see all of her… she just… couldn’t read him. She was unsure about him, considering he’d gone from fully doubting her to suddenly falling for her.

Was he still playing a part? Maybe their trust would only ever be partial. 

Katara loosened herself from their embrace and looked at her feet. She settled on telling him most of the truth. “I have feelings for you, Zuko. No matter what you feel or what you say, those won’t go away. So, you don’t need to worry about angering me or being… being sent away. I’m— I want you here, with me. I really do.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her, mulling over her words before being careful with his own, “I trust that you wouldn’t do anything to try to intentionally hurt me,” Zuko told her sincerely as she stroked his face and he stayed hunched over her in their embrace. “And… I’m getting the hang of things, and I was content, but now… I am happy. Today, playing with the children, and when I looked over at you– I realized I was actually happy, and noticed I was happy for the first time in many years,” Zuko confessed to her, leaning his forehead to hers. 

He smiled at her when she spoke of them tag-teaming on a speech, and nodded. If she was confident in it, so was he. He just didn’t want to create any tension between the nations because he had wounded pride. “I… I would love that, Katara. That means more to me than you know,” replied Zuko softly, a genuine smile unfolding on his lips with a light chuckle full of as much warmth as he was. 

He leaned in and kissed her gently and quickly after she pulled away, in apology and affection. He wanted to linger, but pulled back, his heart swelling again at her kind words on him, and he was delighted to hear she too had feelings for him. He laughed, biting down on his lower lip like a lovestruck teenager as he laughed shyly. 

Zuko exhaled, leaning his forehead against hers once more. “I was terrified,” confessed Zuko. “Coming here, I was miserable. On my first night here I didn’t sleep a wink,” he whispered. “But, you, Katara… you made this place, this life, this role, everything… from something so… dreadful– to what I thought would be so dreadful– to something wonderful. I can’t believe it, but… Katara, I want to be here. I want to be here with you. I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad my uncle sent _me_.”


	11. Chapter 11

“That’s… good,” Katara murmured. “I truly hope you’ll always be glad you’re here. I hope you’ll be happy, completely happy.” She smiled, but she was still stiff in his arms. 

Her thoughts were on his cousin, sliding down a slippery slope of questions about Zuko’s relationship with him, if Zuko was jealous of Lu Ten, if Zuko resented Lu Ten, because he’d been able to stay in the Fire Nation while Zuko was forced elsewhere. 

Katara wondered now if she _did_ have trouble trusting him, like he thought, or if this.. _. wariness_ was simply her heart’s way of defending itself. What happened when one fell in love? Her dad had told her once that it felt like drowning one instant, and the next, it was like coming up for that first gulp of air. He also said it could feel like leaping from a cliff.

At the moment, she felt like she was leagues deep in the ocean’s blackness, bogged down by a million questions and the relentless doubt that it was too soon to feel _anything_ for a man she knew so little about.

Katara flattened her hands on his chest, her fingers tapping with nervous tension. She finally looked up at him, releasing her lip from between her teeth. 

“I want to take you somewhere,” she said. “We’ll have to be gone for a few days, but it’s somewhere that’s important to my tribe, _to me._ I want to share it with you.” 

* * *

Trust didn’t come easy to Zuko. He’d been hurt, betrayed, and beaten down by those he loved so many times. His father had sucked every sense of self-worth he had, his mother had abandon him, his girlfriend had dug him deeper in that hole, his uncle had all but banished him. He was wary, always, but he trusted Katara somehow.

He wrapped his arms around her when she came in close, linking at her back. He smiled at her, she looked nervous, and he wanted to grant her encouragement. She wanted to take him somewhere, and his chest seized with anxious anticipation, but excitement too.

“I’ll go anywhere,” he agreed, nodding with a smile, “Especially if it’s important to you… of course,” he agreed. He reached up to cup her cheek, “I’ll go whenever you’d like, Katara.”

* * *

“Great. That’s great,” she smiled, and this time, her eyes lit up from it. Katara kissed him briefly, wrapping her fingers in his dyed furs, then broke their embrace. “I’ll pack us a few things… if you wouldn’t mind telling the palace guard that we need a sleigh.” 

She squeezed his fingers once, hoping she looked… excited, at the most. Her heart was a nervous mess in her chest, thundering against her ribcage and Katara could only blame the swirl of questions she had. She tried not to focus on them, and only see him. 

His kindness and tenderness and strength and bravery. His front, the wall he put up to hide soft, thoughtful things— like his talent with tea, his penchant for painting… the way he brushed her hair from her face and kissed her awake in the morning. 

_La,_ she was in deep. 

Katara closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. Then, she nodded her head, almost bowing to him like she did on the first day they met, and left the dining room. 

//////////

It didn’t take Katara long to pack for them. She met Zuko in the courtyard an hour later, tossing a bag of cozy garments into the awaiting sleigh. A servant brought blankets, food, and firewood; Zuko settled on the bench, bundled up against lightly falling snow. He looked at her expectantly, but Katara only gave him a small peck.

“Get comfortable, get warm,” she said, taking up a bending stance on the back of the sleigh. “I’ll get us there faster than any reindeer will.” 

* * *

To say Zuko was curious would be an enormous understatement. He didn’t know what his wife was going to show him, or what laid ahead. All he knew was that he was out on the sleigh, hugging himself. He was shaking from the cold. It was more frigid than usual, and his teeth were even chattering, despite his breath of fire. He didn’t know how these people ever got used to such brutal cold. He’d been here a month, and he still quivered in his boots every time a gust of icy wind blew by. 

His face still alit, however, when his wife came out to greet him. He waved with his woven mittens, and a smile that peaked out from behind his scarf. “It feels impossible to get warm,” Zuko laughed out, seeing a fog of his own breath as he did, and he quickly pulled his scarf back up over his face. 

He watched as she turned with a proud smirk on his face. He knew that her talented bending would get them there quickly, at least. The wind would be wicked in the gust, but it would beat sitting here for hours while the reindeer trudged through the thick snow. Zuko gripped the rail, ready for the jerk from the accelerated blow. 

She used her bending then, and powered through the snow, pushing their sleigh. Zuko gripped the rail for dear life, and kept his face down to avoid whiplash and the sting of ice beating against him. Finally, the sleigh slowed. He put his head up slowly, meeting Katara’s gaze. Her face was red from exhaustion and the cold air, and around them it was so quiet, he thought if he concentrated enough, he could hear the snowflakes hitting the ground. 

All there was was the occasional sound of the waves lapping up at the rocky shore. There was nothing in sight, but ice caps and snow– and an enormous, washed up, abandoned Fire Nation ship. The sight of that made Zuko’s stomach tighten, and he glanced at Katara with worry, and sighed, tugging down his scarf that she’d knitted for him with Fire Nation patterns and embroidery. 

“It’s my grandfather’s ship: The Black Dragon.”

* * *

“You know it?” Katara stepped from the sled, staring up at the black monstrosity of a ship. It creaked when waves rolled it, but otherwise, the beast was held in place by spears of ice. “It was the last ship to invade my tribe.” 

Her boots crunched in the snow as she started towards it, waving a hand for Zuko to follow. He did, distantly and full of trepidation, but Katara smiled to show she didn’t mean any harm. Not to him. 

A hole had been ripped into the ship’s side during its last battle. Katara drew up a gangway of ice, crossing over the dark, frothy waves that peeked betwenn chunks of drifting ice, and entered the hull of the ship. Zuko stepped in behind her, looking around with wide eyes and caution. 

She took his hand, pulling him deeper. “It’s perfectly safe in here. You’re safe,” Katara emphasized while they walked. “All the booby traps were triggered or deactivated a long time ago.” 

“I brought you here because… well, some of it might remind you of home. The ship has a small library with Fire Nation scrolls, rooms with red drapes and gold insignias…” Katara pushed open one door in the galley, showing him a small room with bunks. It was meant for the crew, but the room was still red and gold and black, like the clothing Zuko had come in. 

“It’s certainly not _warm_ like your home, but it’s similar,” she said, smiling softly at him. “You might find some comfort here… if you’re ever homesick or lonely or just tired of being surrounded by blue. All you have to do is ask a palace waterbender and they’ll bring you here.” 

Katara closed the crew door and led Zuko along. They climbed up into the upper levels of the ship, where a dining room was nestled amongst a library and a cigar parlor and the Fire Lord’s quarters. She led him in there, showing him the display of swords Azulon kept, the books, and even the old clothing. 

“Consider it all yours. It’s far from the tribe, but everyone needs somewhere they escape to, don’t they?” Katara shrugged and took a seat on the massive bed in the middle of the room. “Having this be yours will be a far better legacy than the slaughter the ship represents.” 

* * *

The ship felt eerie and unsettling as he walked towards it in the icy silence. It felt cold, and reminded him of the man who’d wanted to take his life when he was a boy, for no reason other than to punish Ozai. Zuko stuffed his hands in his pocket, and tried not to wear his heart on his sleeve as he crunched through and into the dark and echoing vessel. He could almost hear the voyage. He could hear the hearty laughter of the drunk men in the lower deck, smell the unfurled canned food. It was haunting, but Katara wore a bright smile, and he had no heart to tell her that he’d sooner sit out in the ice for hours than in here. 

She was right, it wasn’t warm, but the ambience was colder than the climate. He’d find no comfort here, alone, in this dark, haunting, shipwrecked, killing vessel. He smiled at her because the thought was incredibly kind. She’d went so far out of her way to give him a piece of home. Katara only wanted to make him happy– give him a quiet place to think and get away from it all. She wanted to reclaim this ship for a kinder purpose than it already stood, but Zuko couldn’t shake the blood born of this boat. 

“I don’t know what to say,” murmured Zuko, walking around the extravagant, yet decaying bedroom that must’ve been the captain’s quarters. Zuko swallowed thickly, wondering if he knew the captain. He wondered if the man was good friends with his father, or grandfather. He wondered how many he killed in the name of loyalty and righteousness to his family and the crony cause that nearly eradicated her people. Zuko ran his hand over the dusty bookshelf, and pulled one out, running his finger over the binding. It was 100 Ways to Brew Tea in 100 Different Cities. 

Zuko smiled at that, it reminded him, unnervingly, that these monsters were people nonetheless, and that great atrocity could be committed by any everyday man or woman. He loved tea too, he’d love to flip through this book and make some unique blends for himself and Katara, and share it with Hakoda too. He’d like to maybe prepare some for everyone at the Summit. Did this captain prepare some for his crew?

Zuko sighed, looking over to Katara. “Thank you, Katara,” Zuko said to her, looking over at her with a smile. “This is so kind of you… thank you,” he murmured, and it wasn’t all a lie. The sentiment did touch his heart, but he didn’t know how he could cherish this gift itself for all the skeletons it hid in its closet on every floor.

* * *

“You’re welcome,” Katara smiled genuinely, though, she sensed he was wary, accepting a war machine as a gift. She didn’t push him on it. “I thought you might want something, or just see something from home. I know what it’s like to be far away…” 

Her smile fell a little. She looked down at her boots as memories of the Earth Kingdom flashed through her head. She’d been scared, _terrified_ at times. She would’ve given her soul to be reminded of the South Pole. 

Katara tried not to dwell on it now. She _was_ home; Zuko was the one trapped in a strange land. 

“I wanted to give this ship new memories,” she said, finally. “Right now, it’s the last attack, the last raid, the ship that brought my mother’s murderer, the ship that brought the last dragon.” 

“Or… what we thought was the last dragon. You have Druk.” She swallowed, thinking of the skeletons that lied beneath the ice. Beasts and men brought down by Water Tribe warriors, forgotten amongst the snow. 

Katara bit her lip, looking at Zuko carefully. “You can have him brought here, if you want. This all must be worse for you, being separated from your dragon. It’s rumored that there’s a… connection between dragons and their riders. Druk chose to hatch for you, so he must be important to you. Almost like family.”  

* * *

“The colors are the same, the design, the bedding, the interior… I hate to admit it, but it’s all the same, at its base,” Zuko replied, putting the book back in the shelf and sitting back beside her on the bed. He tapped his feet against the steel floor, watching ice fall in clumps off his boots, melting against the ground. He moved his hand over hers with a small smile. “It’s hard to think of it as something for good– to remind me of the warmth I see in my home– when last it was used was to bring you and your people so much suffering, death, and sadness,” whispered Zuko, but he nodded. 

“You’re right, we can reclaim it. I can make it… a cultural hub of sorts, something good… an embassy of sorts… something like that, I don’t know, maybe just a refuge,” Zuko laughed. “Maybe bring some painting supplies out here, I don’t know,” he mused aloud, looking around the eerie bedroom. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, Kat, really, thank you,” he said sincerely, though the ship still left him at unease. He saw her point– he wanted to bring something good to this old thing. It’d be better than leaving it as a grueling reminder and haunting memorial of failure for her tribesmen. 

He smiled when she mentioned dragons, his smirk turning proud. “My uncle was smart. He lied. He said they brought the last dragons, but there were some in the far off, sacred lands of the Fire Nation, and there was an egg– I didn’t know it was an egg when I was seventeen, but it was– and he must’ve taken a liking to me… I went back to do some more specialty training, and I couldn’t let him go… Druk, you’re right… you remembered,” Zuko said fondly, missing the dragon dearly. 

He looked at his wife- stunned- when she said he could bring Druk here. He shook his head in disbelief, a wide, bright, lopsided grin slowly growing on his face. “You… you’re serious? Really? I– I can have Druk here? You– You’re sure it’s okay…? A big dragon in the Water Tribe?” Zuko said with a laugh. “Agni, where would he go? I– I it’s so cold… he’d need a home… Agni, Kat, I’d love that… I can’t even tell you how happy I’d be to have Druk here with  me, but Spirits, I don’t know where he’d sleep… and to have something built would be asking too much, but… Spirits, Katara, you’re right… I love that dragon,” Zuko admitted with a warm laugh. “I miss him terribly as I miss my uncle.”

* * *

“We only ever killed the dragons because the people who rode them wanted to kill us… it’s not like we hunted them _for sport—”_  Katara gave Zuko a pointed look; his comment prickled at her. 

She forced herself to swallow the swelling pride in her throat. “Since I doubt you have any malevolent wishes for us, no one will mind your dragon here. And, having a home built for Druk can be done in the time it takes to transport him.” 

“I’ll put in the order when we get back,” Katara said, moving to her feet. “All you will need to do is meet with the head surveyor and discuss Druk’s needs.” 

She smiled, but felt it fade quickly before she bit down on her lip. Something about what he said— that his uncle was smart— bristled in her chest. Katara knew Zuko had come here with ideas put in his head about what kind of people they were: cruel, barbaric, savage; she’d come to think Zuko didn’t believe it. 

That may’ve been naive though, as he clearly thought there was some need, some wisdom, in his uncle lying to the South and the world about the demise of the dragons. _His_ people were the ones who hunted them for fun, for trophies, yet hers were being blamed for the near extinction? 

Katara grimaced, her hands on her hips and her eyes on the floor. “I… was planning to stay here for the night, but we may have to plan another time to view the Southern Lights,” she said. “I’m not feeling well suddenly, and I have heaps of work to get through before the Summit.” 

* * *

“Yes… I know that,” Zuko replied, not having meant to offend her with his remarks. “The dragons were killed by my people for sport, I- I know,” he agreed with a sigh, feeling as though she had to insist that all his people were horrid and cruel. It had to be reiterated that they were morally inferior, or savage. “I just– the dragons were used as important military tools as well, it would have benefitted the Water Tribes to kill them off to slow our military down, for sure,” Zuko explained, “My uncle had lied to my grandfather about it– who in turn carried that lie to the troops… my uncle was only prince then, the crown prince, but still,” Zuko tried to explain, but he felt as though he was choking on the foot in his mouth. 

He quieted and stared at his feet in solitude with a sigh. He wanted to smile still, and was swallowing a giddy laugh. The thought of having Druk here was enough to keep him smiling for days on end. Zuko fingered the bed anxiously and absentmindedly. He wanted to embrace her, and pepper her face in grateful kisses. He never in his wildest dreams thought he’d be allowed to have Druk with him. He thought he’d all but lost Druk forever– his sages had him preparing to never see him again. Zuko had even said a final farewell to the dragon before he departed for his life here. But now, he was going to be with him every day– thanks to her. She was angry at him, but he was delighted with her. 

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose when she announced her blatantly-forged illness. “Katara…” began Zuko, hoping to smooth things over, trying to remember what she told him about fighting– that he was allowed– that she wanted a real marriage. “I’m sorry if what I said about the dragons upset you. I know your people didn’t want to harm them for no reason. It was war. I know. I’m sorry. But, of course… if you _need_ to go, then of course we _should_ go.”

* * *

“I don’t _want_ to go!” Katara whirled around, glaring at Zuko with a vexed expression. “I want to stay here. I want to enjoy some solitude with you. It’s just—” She shook her head, looking around what were once lavish quarters. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I should sink this thing,” Katara murmured. “My people keep it here as a reminder, like a tombstone. It tells the story of the hundreds of lives lost in that final fight, both Fire Nation and Water Tribe. It’s a warning, about the tragedy of war. Or so they say…”

Katara went to a writing desk in the corner of the room, running her finger along the dust-covered wood. “Most of the time, I think it’s here as a warning never to trust, again. It doesn’t stand as a reminder of lost lives, it’s a reminder of prejudice and pain.” 

“I thought by giving it to you, giving it some renewed purpose—” She sighed heavily, wiping her fingers clean as she turned around to face Zuko. “It’s just a ship. It shouldn’t matter where it came from or what happened when it came. It’s a fucking ship, a hunk of welded metal.”  

“But every time I come here, I can see my mother’s blood spilling across the floor of our hut.” Katara crossed her arms. Her throat was tight, and she tried not to cry. “And now you’re here, and all you can see is the blood _I_ spilled.”

“I never wanted to kill anyone, Zuko, man or dragon. I didn’t. But, it was war, you’re right. So, I killed people and I killed dragons, and your uncle lied like we were the ones raining chaos on the world. He didn’t need to lie. We only wanted to be left alone, _in peace.”_

* * *

He agreed with her, it was just a hunk of metal. It was once many things, and it would always be a reminder, but that was all just abstract. Out of sight, out of mind, maybe she should just rid everyone of the burden of thinking about it, send it off into the icy waves never to be seen again. “I don’t see how anyone could forget such a horrid war, but… there are likely wars before our time that we’ve long forgotten…” Zuko murmured. “I don’t want to sound too cynical, but man will likely repeat the err of war whether we leave them a reminder or not,” Zuko mumbled, watching a small crack in the window allow a breeze in, fluttering the ragged curtain on the ship’s little window. 

Her confession tore at his gut. It freshly hurt like salt in a wound. He swallowed thickly. He looked down in palpable guilt that twisted in his stomach. It wasn’t warranted, but he felt it. He felt the guilt that it was his people, his family, that destroyed hers so thoroughly. He took a chance and went to her, putting his hand on her forearm gently, his own eyes glazed over with tears. 

He bit his lip, and tugged her over in his arms, pulling her in close without a word. He pressed his hand to her head, pressing her against his chest. “I know,” he choked out soothingly, “I know you didn’t want to,” he whispered, pressing his cheek to the top of her head with a shaky, pained sigh. “I know… it was them– the Fire Nation, me– my people, I know,” Zuko choked out, “And, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” he whispered, a tear finally escaping despite himself. 

His lip quivered, as he finally got the nerve to tell her. He’d never told anyone and he pinched his eyes shut as he buried his face against her hair, pinching his eyes tighter shut, tears coming through. “I– I know… I know because they don’t– they don’t fucking discriminate… even with their own… my– my father killed my mother too. He… He struck her down in cold blood, right in front of us,” Zuko choked out. “She was a traitor, he said, she ran away… she… _she_ … she left me here- and my sister, with him– and my father caught her, so he… _he_ –”

* * *

Her breath caught surprise. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Are you—? Oh my god.” Katara held Zuko tighter, rubbing his back consolingly and tangling a hand in his hair. “I’m sorry, Zuko. That’s— I’m so sorry.” 

She could feel Zuko shake with the threat of tears. Katara kept him close, kept his face buried in her neck and her hair. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing, no well-meaning words or thoughtful gifts, had helped after her mother’s death, but still— Katara whispered what she could into his ear. 

She was sorry. She was here. She knew the pain of losing a mother, growing up without a mother. 

And the whole time, Katara held onto him, let him cry into her skin until a final, ragged breath saw his tears slow. When Zuko sniffled, she pulled back, only marginally, and kissed his scarred cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, again. “It’s not fair, to any child, to lose a mother. I’m sorry you had to experience that.” 

* * *

Zuko stayed there until his tears ceased. He’d embraced her with the intention of bringing her comfort, but the memory of the scent of burning flesh, the shrieking sound of harrowing, bloodcurdling screams for help, and the sight of his mother’s agonized face brought his own sobs. He felt selfish when he curled into her embrace, but he couldn’t hold in the tears. He’d held them in their entire marriage, but he broke here, in the creaky, old Fire Nation ship in the bitter cold, alone. 

He shook his head at her apologies. There was nothing for her to apologize for. She’d lost her mother too, and she’d lost hers at his people’s hands– his family’s. Zuko should be the one comforting her. He held her after she kissed him, he pulled her back into his arms, shaking his head in disbelief at her the love she was offering him. “No, shhh, no,” Zuko finally replied, holding her head to his chest. “Stop, please– please don’t be sorry. It’s me; I’m sorry,” Zuko said firmly. “It’s not fair to you and your family– this ship— it was my grandfather, he sent it. I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry,” Zuko choked out, holding her even closer. 

“It’s not fair– no one. You’re right, no one should have to go through this. It’s not right, it’s so unfair,” Zuko repeated. “Your mom should be here. I’m sorry– I’m sorry we took her from you… I’m so sorry. I feel sick that she’s gone, that we did this… for no fucking reason– it’s so sick. I’m so sorry, Katara.” he whispered to her, his voice strained and pained. 

He thought the tears would humiliate him, they always had at home. But, he wasn’t. He didn’t feel less or ashamed. Katara didn’t make him feel that way. Somehow, he didn’t care that she saw him cry for any reason other than it looked like it hurt her to see him that way. But, he didn’t feel weak in her eyes, and that tugged at his heart further. What had he done to deserve such a wife? 

Zuko held her close again, swaying soothingly in his step. “I’m _sorry_.”

* * *

“Don’t be,” Katara muttered. She opened her eyes and looked over his shoulder, staring down the tattered tapestries and the golden flames woven into them. A sigh rose unbidden, and Katara extracted herself from Zuko’s warm embrace. “It was a long time ago. I’ve had time to heal.” 

She dropped her hands to her sides, almost dejected in her stance. It wasn’t something she did often, remembering that day. It might’ve been years ago, and she might put on a brave face when broaching the subject, but if she concentrated, Katara could feel the stickiness of blood between her fingers and the tears that burned her face.

She swallowed, telling Zuko what she always told herself, “If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t die for nothing. The Fire Nation was looking for waterbenders here… I was the last one. But, she told the soldier that it was her.” 

Katara looked up then, meeting Zuko’s gaze. “She died instead of me. The idiot didn’t even make her prove it,” She snorted in laughter, the sound disturbing in the hollow ship. “I bet he wishes he did, considering the rise of the South… thanks to me.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at his wife, hurt overcoming him at the stories she told of her mother’s demise. He remembered his own mother’s death reluctantly. He remembered holding her while she died, while she trembled, and she was unrecognizable with charred flesh. His father scoffed in disgust at her, and Azula dashed away. He thought of how his own mother did die in vain, but at least Katara’s hadn’t.

He wondered in what sick way the Fire Nation soldier took her mother’s life. He didn’t want to think about such horrors, and how Katara as a mere child had to bear witness to them, too. Zuko gripped her hand as she went on, his eyes still glazed over with the lingering threat of tears. 

“Your mother was a brave woman,” Zuko replied, smiling at her warmly. “And… the Fire Nation navy wasn’t always known for scoping out the brightest,” whispered Zuko with a smirk, but it was laced with a somber tone. “She’d be so proud of you, your mother. Who wouldn’t be? Look at all you’ve done to better your nation, and alongside your father– the world,” Zuko added with a proud smile. 

“You’re an amazing woman, Katara… your country is very lucky to have you, your father is very lucky, and I feel as though I’m the luckiest of them all.”

* * *

“I’ve learned that I’m quite lucky, too,” Katara smiled, and now it was far more genuine than it’d been moments ago. She reached for Zuko’s hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing gently.

“I’m happy, Zuko, happier than I thought I’d be, marrying someone I didn’t want. It’s funny how things change, isn’t it?” Katara cupped his face with her free hand, following the line of his jaw with her fingertips. “I want you all the time. I want to be around you and talk with you and kiss you.”

She pushed up her toes to reach his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. Katara felt Zuko smile into the kiss, and his hands held her waist, keeping her close to him as the embrace deepened. Her heartbeat turned into a fluttering mess, almost aching as it thundered in her chest.

She knew _why_ , despite never feeling this before. She knew all the reasons she couldn’t breathe around him, couldn’t think, could hardly stand upright or keep her bearings or move her focus from him— she was like a moth drawn to flame and she no longer cared how badly it hurt to be burned.

“Zuko, I- I’ve—“ Katara settled back on her heels. Her fingers fidgeted at the nape of his neck, tapping against his skin. She sucked in a breath, closing her eyes to make it easier.

“I love you, Zuko. I’ve fallen in love with you. I have. I never thought I would. I never thought I’d even _like_ you, but I love you and I know I’ll only love you more, the more time I get with you.” It spilled out so quickly once she started, coming in a tumble of rushed words. Katara felt elated. “I… I’m in love with you. I—”

Until she opened her eyes, looked up, found a frozen face staring back at her. Her confession halted. Her stomach twisted into knots.

“What? Zuko, _what?”_ She whispered, afraid of the answer. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

* * *

Zuko smiled at Katara warmly when she took him over to her, in her arms. She cupped his cheek, held his face, and looked at him like he was brighter than any star they watched on the clearest night in the sky. It melted his heart, and he smiled warmly back at her, his cheeks going rosy with how touched he was– with how warm she made him feel despite the outer cold. 

He melted into her sudden kiss, and welcomed the spontaneous affection with his hands on her waist, and a bubbly feeling in his chest. He smiled against her lips, wanting her closer, though they were already pushed chest-to-chest, and her arms looped around his neck. He could feel her heartbeat, and it calmed him to know she was so near– and it was just the two of them in this dingy room that somehow became so much brighter when she was the only thing on his mind. 

When she pulled back, his eyes were slightly lidded, and he wore a stupid, satiated grin on his face like he’d just had the best kiss of his life. “I want you too,” he finally replied with a tender chuckle, and she kept her hands at his neck, and he kept hers on her waist, squeezing affectionately, still wearing a rosy blush against his porcelain skin. 

But, when she looked at him, she looked nervous. Zuko tilted his head curiously, hoping everything was all right. “Hey?” Zuko spoke in concern, squeezing her side in an attempt to grab her attention, to egg her to open up as he pecked her nose, but she smiled at him, and began to stammer. He was prepared for something sad, something scary, something off– but not this. He was not at all prepped for what stumbled off her pretty lips next. 

Her eyes were downward and she still fiddled with his collar on his sweater beneath his scarf she’d knitted. She was blushing too, and nervous, but she was smiling. He must’ve looked like a prey standing before a hunter. His mouth was flailing like a fish because Katara had just spilled out to him that she loved him. Holy hell, the princess of the Southern Water Tribe just said she was in love with him– deeply, from the way she went on. His heart raced then because he didn’t know what to say.

Could she really love him? Could the eventual queen of the most powerful nation on earth love him? So soon? She was in love with him? Zuko was in shaken disbelief, but she acted so. She acted as though she did– she acted like she _loved_ him. Zuko’s heart was racing because he didn’t know how he felt, not yet. 

He knew he felt deeply. He cared very deeply for Katara. He thought she was kind, brave, smart, beautiful, talented, strong, and generous. He could feel his heart, too, fluttering when she came by. He was excited to see her when she came by, he waited up with heavy eyelids to see her and kiss her goodnight, he craved her company when she wasn’t around, and daydreamed about her, and was distracted at meetings by her smile. He was falling in love with her, but he hadn’t– not just yet. 

He was sure of that, and he was wary, he was scared to love fully. He didn’t know how to tell her. She looked so hopeful, and fuck– she loved him. He still hadn’t had that fully sink in. This woman loved him. This woman that he held as his wife– for the rest of his life, whom he feared would be cruel, use him, exploit him, treat him as little more than a sperm donor for a treaty, strike him, dispose of him like he was subhuman— she did further than the opposite. She cherished him, respected him, made him laugh, held him, comforted him, spoke with him, shared everything with him, and fuck– now she loved him. She loved him, and he had to break her heart, even if only temporarily, he had to and that was why she looked mortified, she knew it. She knew the blow was coming, he just had to make sure he did it as tenderly as possible. 

“Katara,” Zuko began, likely looking like he’d just seen a ghost. He’d have rather than have to have this conversation. He felt selfish for still feeling his heart soar from her confession. He could hardly fathom that she was in love with him. It sounded far too good to be true. Who could love him? What made him worthy of the love of such a beautiful woman, inside and out?

He took her by the shoulders, squeezing there as his eyes shimmered, “Agni, Katara… I– I… You– You have been so, so wonderful to me,” he choked out. “I can’t believe you… you love me? You mean that? You’re really, actually in love with me?” he said with a laugh, shaking his head in shock, a tear falling free. “I can’t believe you love me… Katara, I–” he stammered nervously. He knew she wouldn’t lie to him- especially not about that, and he owed her the same honesty. He could not betray her trust by lying to her, especially about something so grave a matter of the heart. 

“Katara… I– I… I care for you. I care for you very, very deeply,” Zuko began, his hands tapping at her shoulders with anxiety. “I think you’re kind, beautiful, loving, brave– everything,” he whispered, sighing as he looked down in shame of himself. He didn’t want to, but felt obliged to look her in the eyes when he ripped out her heart. “Katara, I am falling in love with you… I feel myself falling deeper every day that passes, and every moment I’m with you… you make me so happy. I cherish every moment we’re together, and I admire you so, and I care about you so much… and I think of you always… but I… I cannot honestly say… I can’t– I couldn’t… I don’t want to…” Zuko stalled, sighing deeply, pain and regret written on his face. 

“Katara, I’m not in love with you just yet, but… I’m falling for you. I’m sorry– I- I can’t lie to you. I’m sorry.”


	12. Chapter 12

Katara couldn’t breathe. 

This was what she deserved, wasn’t it? All the partners she’d gone through before this, partners who cared about her and wanted her and she’d just— 

This was what she deserved: unrequited love.

Katara licked her lips. They were salty with tears she hadn’t felt fall. She wiped her cheeks, looking down as her hands dropped to her sides. Her boots, his boots, the floor— they were blurry. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t even find the will to try. 

She made fists, like the action could somehow quell the violent ache in her chest. She wanted to sob, wanted to curl up and hide away, build walls around herself and her soul. 

This was heartbreak. And she deserved it.  

Zuko’s hands ran up her arms. He was trying to coax some kind of reaction from her, given that she’d been silent until now. Katara glanced at him, her mouth falling open, then clamping shut. She chewed her lip, blinking rapidly and looking everywhere she could without looking at him. 

The urge to cry was relentless. She fidgeted within his embrace. Finally— 

“Sometimes lies are better.” 

Katara met his gaze, only able to look at the sorrowful gold for a second. It hurt too much, tore right through her to know that he didn’t love her back. She swallowed, hard, and turned away with something like a whine in her throat. 

Her eyes went up to the ceiling and she held her breath until the burning in her chest dissipated. “I- I still want you to see the lights,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “They’re beautiful. Like you.” 

* * *

Zuko felt sick to his stomach that he couldn’t return Katara’s feelings. He wished he could. He wished he could have made her smile and laugh, not stare down at the floor, holding her breath so she wouldn’t cry. That was the last thing he’d ever want, and the only thing he caused. 

He felt like she hated him now. Zuko felt this rift fuse between them like it’d never be the same, and it was all his fault. More guilt, on top of the guilt for his forefathers, built in his chest. He felt awful for breaking her heart, and wanted to do anything to mend it, but how could he when he was the breaker. “I’m sorry, Katara,” Zuko choked out, swallowing thickly and looking away when he felt her eyes on him. He couldn’t bear the way her eyes bore into him in such painful longing. 

She told him then that lies were better. That felt like a slap to the face. He couldn’t have lied about something so serious. If she found out it was a lie, then she wouldn’t have preferred it. Zuko couldn’t lie about something like that– loving someone. That was so wrong, so twisted, he couldn’t do it. He wondered if she could, if she had, if she would. He didn’t doubt her now, not in the least. Everything she’d done had pointed to love in the leading days. He didn’t think she could lie to him either– if he’d said it first, and she didn’t love him. He trusted she’d be honest in him too. Zuko could not weather such a lie. Lying about love was something Zuko found too callous and cruel. He didn’t ever want to play games with people’s hearts. 

Zuko squeezed her wrist in comfort, his own eyes blurry with tears as she called him beautiful. Still, despite how he’d shattered her, she called him such lovely things. That only pointed further, vindicated deeper, that her words were as true as he expected– but didn’t understand the reason for. “Katara… please,” whispered Zuko, rubbing his thumb over her wrist gently and affectionately. “I never– ever– wanted to hurt you, Katara. Please know that… I’m sorry I hurt you. I just– I can’t lie about something like that. Please understand. I want you to know that when the time comes for me to tell you that I do love you that you know you can believe it. No one should have to doubt they’re loved, and I’m sorry that I can’t return it just yet. But, Katara, please… don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t care for you very, very deeply.” 

* * *

Katara nodded, biting down hard on her lip. When she released it, she thought she could taste blood. “I know,” she murmured. She didn’t add that countless people had cared for her, very deeply; that to her, those words were little more than sweet nothings to cover up a lack of intimacy and vulnerability. 

“It’s fine,” Katara said, turning around after another deep breath. She’d made fists of her clothing, but she let the fur go, trying to seem calm. “I understand, Zuko. I do.”

Inside, she was reeling. Spiraling. Spinning out of control in the form of rapid heartbeats and swirling nausea. Katara wanted to bend over and vomit. She wanted to shove him out of the room and wall herself inside to cry. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything.

The treaty didn’t require love, but she’d found it. The treaty didn’t even require friendship, but she counted Zuko among her closest. It hit her then, though, that if the treaty didn’t require such things, he may never feel them. He may never want them. 

She fought another bout of stinging tears and reached for his hand. Her fingers shook, but Katara wrapped them up in his. “Let’s go, okay? The sun will be going down soon and I want our camp to be set up before the light’s gone.” 

* * *

She said she understood, but it didn’t seem like she did at all from her mannerisms. She was acting so evasive and aloof. Katara was downtrodden from the chipper woman he’d spoken to just moments ago when she spilled to him her heart– gave him her heart. Zuko had nothing to say, nothing that could make her feel better or matter. So, he just nodded along with a sigh, and followed her as she grabbed his hand. 

He’d been excited for the lights, heard of how beautiful they were up close like this, out where there was no city and light pollution to spoil them. But now, it seemed he’d soiled everything. He’d ruined all the friendship they’d gained, and the whole relationship they built up, and he hated himself for it. Would she really have preferred a lie? It didn’t matter because he never would have done it, regardless. 

Instead, Zuko stood out in the cold with her, waiting as they stood with camping supplies. It felt empty out here now, when before he figured she must’ve imagined it romantic. Zuko put a hand on her back gently, trying to offer her the same affection, trying to ensure she knew he still cared for her. “Thank you for taking me out here, Kat.”

* * *

“Of course.” Katara smiled like it was nothing, and in a way, it was. She’d wanted to do this with him, _for_ him, for a week now— their fight that morning had just pushed her to it. 

She stepped closer to him when his hand flattened on her back, then leaned against him. If she couldn’t have verbal affirmation, Katara would take this. She’d _cling_ to this, if she didn’t get the rest. 

Katara tilted her head back to look at him. “I- I love you.” She couldn’t stop herself from saying it again. “Even if you never… Zuko, I’ll keep on loving you.” 

She kissed his cheek, lingering for just a moment to inhale the intoxicating mix of spice and fire that she’d come to know as _him_. Then Katara pulled away, out of Zuko’s reach, drawing ice and snow together to form a cozy igloo.  

It was tall enough for them to stand in, with a pit in the center for a hot coals or a cook fire and a hole in the top to let the smoke free. Katara gestured for Zuko to crawl through the entrance, and she followed, helping him unfurl the furs on top of the ice and set up their bedroll. He spread the coals in the center of the pit, bringing them up to a warm glow. Katara kicked free of her boots and shed her coat.

“Join me in the bed?” she asked, slipping under soft blankets. “We have another hour or so to kill… and I’d like to be held.” 

* * *

Zuko returned her smile, rubbing her back where his hand sat. He wondered how she remained so composed after he’d broken her heart. She still wanted to be near him, she still looked at him like _that_ , and she still was so _good_ to him. It made it hurt all the more. It’d hurt less if she’d gotten angry; it hurt more because he knew she was true in all her affections, not that she’d ever given him room for doubt before. 

He looked at her, his eyes flickering against the low light of the firepit in the background. She said it again– those three words– and Zuko’s fingers curled into her shirt where his hand rested. His heart fluttered like it’d grown wings, and warmed like it’d been tossed into the fire with the coals, but in the most toasty and delightful way. He couldn’t help it this time, he blushed, smiled that big, lopsided grin, and giggled tenderly, averting his gaze shyly. 

Zuko bit his lip as she kissed his cheek, his heart was soaring, but it broke at the same time because repeating those words to her would be a cruel farce, and he did care for her too deeply to do that. He tilted his head to kiss her lips, his hand rubbing her side. He wanted her to know that he meant every word, and he did really care about her. 

He was baffled that she loved him. He was even more baffled that she was giving him this love so freely– no strings were attached. She didn’t require his love in return, she just loved him. It struck him then as he stood there in the snow thinking about it. No one had loved him like that before. No one had ever assured him of it so thoroughly. Tears bloomed in his eyes, and his throat felt tight. 

Katara just loved him. That was it. There were no stipulations. Even his uncle had sent him away like a political pawn, a game in his treaty. His mother had left him to rot at his father’s hand. But Katara? There was nothing. He was sent here, and she had every reason to hate him– this boat gave her enough of a reason, but she didn’t hate him. She loved him, and she didn’t just love him, which would be asking for more than enough. She was _in love_ with him. 

Zuko shook his head when Katara shook him from his reverie. He pressed his fingertips to his eyes to rid of the tears that budded there, and he smiled at her with a quiet laugh. He rubbed his hands together, blowing in them as he saw his breath. Zuko kicked his boots off in the pile beside hers and left his coat, scarf, hat, mittens, and jacket in the pile beside hers. He was always freezing and Katara teased him on the daily about his layers upon layers. 

The igloo was nice and toasty, though, and Zuko added some flare to it before crawling into the bed with his wife. He sighed in relief, though his heart was still a confusing mess of ambivalence. He wrapped his arms around her, sitting up to kiss her temple before pulling her close so that her head was resting on his chest. He kissed her forehead, rubbing her shoulder and then moving to draw shapes on her back. 

“I meant it, Katara. I wasn’t sugarcoating things. I’m falling for you, Kat. I’ve never cared so much for a woman in my life.”

* * *

She stayed quiet, dragging her fingers up and down Zuko’s chest. It was hard, both speaking and find the right words to speak. Katara feared saying something selfish, something hurtful— Zuko was offering what he could; she had to come to terms with it.

After a minute or more, she found her voice. “I believe you, Zuko. I do.” 

_But how much is_ so much _? When will you fall all the way?_ Her thoughts clouded with questions, making her eyes sting with tears. Katara nuzzled her face into his neck, her fingers forming a fist atop his chest. 

Her heart was aching, breaking— from the fear he’d never love her, from the solitude of loving him. She told herself it’d be fine. The pain would stop. She knew it would, that the sting of loss would slowly fade until only a dull throb resided in its place. But, right then, it was hard to grasp, hard to trust, that she’d be whole someday. 

Katara dropped her hand to Zuko’s waist, held him tighter. She kissed his neck, then the sliver of his collarbone that cut above his shirt. 

“What ever happens, I’m glad it’s you that’s here with me,” she whispered, her lips on his skin. “I’m glad it’s you that I get to love.” 

* * *

He knew she was hurting. Who wouldn’t be? She spilled her heart out only to be rejected by the one she loved. The more he thought on it, the more awful and guilty he felt, so he tried to push it from his mind, and focus on his wife’s ever-loving gaze and soft smile instead. 

Zuko nodded at her when she said she believed him, and he hoped that she really did. He pulled her closer against him when she settled against him, and he wanted to promise her the world. He wanted to assure her of all of him, but she knew she had him forever, and she was the one who held the power in the end. She never wielded it over him, and he didn’t fear it– or her, in the least, but when things came down to the wire, she was the one who wore the crown and carried the birthright. 

Zuko was taken out of his head and back to reality– his mind going from that to practically nothing, just mush and her– when Katara began to kiss his neck. He smirked widely, and his heart fluttered at her endearing words. Despite it all, she still wanted him. He hoped he was still enough– he hoped she didn’t wish for another that perhaps would love her more quickly, who wouldn’t be so hesitant and wary. But, she spoke as if he was the only one she’d ever want, and among that and her kisses he was rendered speechless, left only adorned with his trademarked smile. 

Zuko’s hands moved up her back as she peppered him in kisses. “I’m glad, always, you were the one I was sent to. I don’t envy my cousin, not one bit.”

* * *

“Are you sure about that?” Katara propped herself up on an elbow, smiling down playfully. “Yue’s… almost _obnoxiously_ pretty. She’s got this gorgeous, silver hair and bright, blue eyes…” Katara trailed off, slumping on top of her pillow. 

“You’ll see when she comes for the Summit,” she muttered, trying to hide the dip in her mood. Katara frowned at the glass-like ceiling of the igloo and chewed the inside of her cheek. 

It was hard to battle the insecurities, now. She’d been the one with the control, the power, being the future queen and the waterbender, the one who was comfortable and safe in the South. But, that’d changed— she was the one with her heart exposed, the one who’d bared everything. 

And she was terrified.

Katara shifted beneath the blankets, trying to work the tension and nerves from her muscles. She glanced at Zuko, felt her stomach flutter with fresh butterflies. 

“You know, _um…”_  Katara reached for his hand. She wanted some kind of reassurance from him, even if it was only physical and fleeting. She needed it, desperately. 

“Will you kiss me?” she asked. “Will you— Please, Zuko? I- I want you.”   

* * *

“Someone prettier than you?” whispered Zuko with a warm grin as he shook his head, “Impossible,” he stated then, pecking her lips, “Truly _impossible_ ,” he repeated, then pecking her nose. “I don’t care when she comes, though I’d like to meet my sister-in-law,” he murmured, “I already know there is no way she’s prettier than you,” he teased her, caressing her cheek affectionately. 

Zuko watched as she shifted from his grasp, and onto her back. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching her worriedly. His gaze met her eyes, and he could see a million and one worries in her that he wished he could assuage, but he was likely the root of them. 

She took his hand and he watched her, and he smiled somberly, but with soft edges. He cupped her neck and leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to hers. His were chapped from the cold, but he could still taste the hot chocolate they’d had early on her lips. Hers were still velvety soft, and he ran his thumb over her neck gently, and over her jawline. Zuko slowly snuck his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss as he moved to hover over her. His arms propped him up, and he moved his hands so they could comb through her thick hair, hoping this was what she wanted because he needed to give her _something_. 

* * *

Her breath rushed from her lungs when Zuko kissed her, like a sigh of relief. He still wanted her, wanted to hold her and touch her. And despite the turmoil swirling though her thoughts, Katara wanted him, too. 

She kissed him back, fervently and eagerly, moaning when she tasted his tongue, threading her fingers through his hair when his weight pinned her down.  She could’ve stayed frozen there, forever maybe, being held by him, touched like he loved her. 

But, he didn’t. He didn’t love her. 

She broke away for a moment, trying to catch the short, gasping breaths that escaped between her lips. Nervous, rushed energy filled her, made her fingers shake. 

“Zuko,” she whispered his name, but couldn’t think of anything more to say. So, Katara pulled her hands from his silky, raven strands and fumbled down to the sash on her tunic. She managed to tug it undone, blindly yanking the ends of the knot and pulling the fabric open. 

The cold air raised goosebumps on her skin, but Zuko was warm, sheltering her within his arms, building heat in her blood with every kiss. His lips traveled from hers, along her jaw. He nipped at her ear, suckled the pulse in her neck, pecked at her collarbones. It was like he knew—

She needed this, more than she’d needed it before. She needed something to push away the clouding doubts in her head. 

* * *

Zuko moved his kisses down her neck as she egged him on with her gentle, loving touches. All his inclinations and wondering had been corroborated tonight. She looked at him too softly, touched him too affectionately, held him too gently, and spoke to him too caring for it to be anything other than love– but love seemed too good to be true. She proved that wrong today when she told him she loved him. He still couldn’t believe that he was sent here on that cold ship alone, and now there was a beautiful woman who _loved_ him. 

He wanted to give her everything in return. He wanted to give her his heart, his soul, his life, his body– he was willing. He just needed his heart to be complacent. He needed to let go of his fear of loving, that he’d be blindsided down the road. He needed to trust in his wife, for she’d given him no room for doubt. It was hard, but he knew he could do it– for her. He could give everything to and for her. He would. But, for now, all he had was his body. He hoped, for now, he could be enough. 

He kissed her all over her now-bare chest, peppering every open piece of skin as she touched him. His back was covered in goosebumps from the cold surrounding them, and he warmed his body with his firebending for them both as he lapped at her breasts and chest, nipping gently at her aroused buds. He waited for her reactions, and tested as she squirmed in pleasure. 

He reached his hand down to pull at her lower garments eagerly, leaning his forehead on hers. Zuko kissed Katara deeply, catching his breath as he kept his forehead atop hers, meeting her pretty, hooded gaze. “You’re an amazing wife, Katara.”

* * *

“Of course you would think that,” she teased, nipping at his bottom lip, “with me naked and pinned beneath you.” Katara kissed from his mouth to his neck, sighing against his skin. “But, you’re right… I _am_ amazing.” 

Her hands skimmed down his back, then around his hips. She hooked the waistband of his pants in her thumbs and yanked them down sharply. Her palms cupped his bare ass as Zuko kicked out of the fabric. 

“On the other hand, you have a fine behind, Fire Prince.” Katara laughed, dragged her hands up his back, her nails digging in, until her fingers were in his hair. She tugged on the strands, coaxing his mouth back to hers, kissing him with renewed fervor. 

Zuko’s touch roamed her, over her breasts and her waist. Her skin felt like it was aflame from him. Every where his fingers went, every where his tongue had been, was on fire. Katara writhed under him, wanting more but not wanting this slow, teasing worship to end.

She broke the kiss, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth. His eyes where alight and dancing when they focused on hers. Katara smiled, cupped his chin, then put the slightest pressure on his shoulders. 

“Kiss me. Kiss down my chest and my stomach,” she demanded. “Then, kiss lower. Put your head between my legs, Zuko, and lick me. See how wet you get me. _Taste me.”_  

* * *

Zuko laughed at her teasing, getting swept away in her kisses, gentle words, and rougher touches. “I won’t argue with that logic,” retorted Zuko, letting her tug off his pants and continue to tease him with her mouth and with her playful words, leaving him a blushing, smirking, trembling mess of putty to her whims. But, she still handed him the control, and begged for it. She wanted to let go and hand everything over to him for steering. 

She knew just how press all his right buttons, and she had him writhing above her in no time. He was yearning for her touch, to be inside her, to be close to her– but the least he could offer her was his own. He wanted nothing more than to please this woman, to show her that he was genuine. He wanted to prove he had nothing but pure intentions for her. He wanted to prove his dedication to her. He doubted this could do any of the sort of that, but the least he could do was make it an offering. 

Zuko followed her command, slowly descending down her body with kisses. He stopped at her breasts, then her naval, and gave due attention to her thighs, lapping at the skin there, and ghosting over her center teasingly, smirking as he did. Zuko ran his fingertips over the backs of her thighs with purpose, opening her legs slowly. He then lowered his head, pressing his lips to her clit, which was already sleek and wet. 

Zuko slowly ran his tongue down her clit, then back up, lapping at her skin slowly at first, then building a steady pace. Her hand was tangled in his hair, and she was panting. He glanced up to see her breasts moving up and down with her chest as she panted in desire, his name choked out between her ragged breaths in need. 

He wanted to bring her to the edge, and he followed her lead. He followed the noises Katara made, the way she grabbed his hair, and dug her fingers into his shoulders, and crooned his two-syllable name, dragging out in long moans. He slid his tongue inside her, moving his thumb to grant attention to her clit, moving in tantalizing circles– and hoping he could bring her over the edge just as she commanded, just as she deserved.

* * *

 

Katara fought to stay still, stay silent— it was few and far between that she found herself like this, with all control relinquished to the man lapping between her legs. She felt exposed, all the more by the confession she’d made earlier. 

But, she couldn’t help herself. “Spirits, that’s—” 

Her hips moved of their own accord, rolling in time with the little licks he gave. Her legs tensed and twitched, her breath hitched. Katara twisted her fingers in Zuko’s hair, breathing his name as she did. 

“Please,” Katara closed her eyes for a moment, then gave up trying to restrain herself, and opened them again. Far better than the backs of eyelids, was the sight of Zuko between her thighs.

His gold eyes were half closed, half focused— they roamed over her stomach and her breasts, lingering on the way her mouth parted with quiet gasps and how her body curved whenever his tongue lapped up through her folds. 

Katara didn’t care, suddenly, how vulnerable she was to his whims, _couldn’t_ care. Zuko’s eyes held a tenderness she wasn’t used to seeing in her lovers; he touched, pleased her, like she was all he’d ever want or need. 

Even if she didn’t have love from him, she had this. Katara let her reservations go, growing louder, moaning long and low in praise for him. She writhed and whined, rocked against his lips, drew pleasure from the feel of his tongue on her and in her. 

“Oh- oh my god…” Katara gasped, like she’d just come up for air. Everything in her tensed, heat pooled in the pit of her belly and her body begged.  _“Zuko.”_

She came without any more warning than that, gripping Zuko’s raven hair so tightly it had to hurt. He hardly slowed in his ministrations, drawing her through her climax as her legs trembled and her moans turned to nothing more than keening gasps. 

Katara rode through it, coming down from the high slowly, relaxing on the bed and letting his hair go, only to massage his scalp in an apology. She said his name gently, and Zuko lifted his head, a proud smile decorating glistening lips. 

She coaxed him up her body and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue. It made her tense again, made her ache to be filled by him. Katara reached between them and stroked Zuko’s cock, rubbed her sex against the tip of him. 

“Please,” she begged, breaking their kiss. “Zuko, _please._ I want you.” 

* * *

 Zuko was out of breath and pleased with himself for pleasuring her as he lifted his head slowly, kissing his way back to her face before she pulled him back over to her and to her lips almost desperately. She tasted just as sweet, and it only made him need her more. His cock was throbbing, desperate, as he imagined and longed to shove inside her. “ _Kat_ ,” Zuko grunted, his voice almost carnal as he ached between his legs, wanting her, and only her. 

When she grabbed his cock between her hands, he moaned, thrusting against her reflexively with a gasp. He didn’t need any more direction than her begging for him. He was more than willing to oblige. Zuko kissed her deeply before propping himself up on his elbows, positioning himself over her, and sinking into her. His eyes lulled back in his head, he smirked, and sighed, “ _Fu–ck_ ,” muttered Zuko shakily, his head then falling to the nook between her neck and shoulder and he drug his upper lip against her skin, his breath warming her flesh. 

Zuko kissed her neck before pulling himself up, and thrusting back into her, “Fuck, Katara,” Zuko grunted before pushing back into her, building a steady pace as with each thrust her firm, plush walls tightened around his thick cock. Zuko began to move faster with her urging, her nails digging down his skin, leaving red trails in their wake without doubt. 

His breath was thick and desperate, and Zuko kissed Katara’s neck sloppily between breaths before resting his forehead on hers and taking in her lips– kissing her deeply. She met his hips, pressing against his own as she matched his movements with the distinct sound of slapping skin as the scent of sex permeated the igloo, and Zuko’s skin heated so much he swore the place would melt. Zuko’s eyes fluttered back open, though half-lidded. They were still ever-bright, warm, and especially and particularly soft, for _her_. He smiled at her, then laughed shyly, murmuring her name through a gentle moan before pressing back into her with both his lips and his hips.

* * *

 “Don’t- don’t stop.” Katara panted in his ear, her fingers dragging down his back, gripping his ass. He’d found the perfect angle, the perfect rhythm— hard and fast, juxtaposed by soft kisses and gentle hands. 

She couldn’t breathe, much less speak, but Tui and La, Katara tried. She whined broken syllables of his name, whispered praise.  _“Fuck…_ Zuko, please.” 

He rested his forehead against hers. his breath was hot and fast, mixing with hers. Katara loved it, she drank him in. She fisted a hand through his hair and moved the other to the middle of his back. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she rolled with every thrust, crooning at how deep his cock was buried.  

Zuko’s lips found hers then, swallowing the sound. She could taste herself still, mixed with sweat and the intangible flavor of lust and desire. It brought her to the edge again, made her tremble beneath him and _beg_ him.

Zuko bit her lip, pulled out of her before thrusting back in. His tongue soothed the offense, licked into her mouth, and his hips rolled until they were flush with hers. He did it again, then again, pulling out and pushing in so she could savor his cock, every single inch. 

Her back arched over the mattress. Katara tightened around him; her legs, her arms, her sex. Then her climax rolled through her like a tidal wave, washing away every thought except that of him and how she felt, so full of him. 

* * *

Zuko felt her tighten around him, felt her breath halt, and the steady pace of her heartbeat against his chest. Despite the cold, he could feel the sweat against her forehead that rubbed off onto his. Her hands ran down his back and she moved them back of, clenching his hair tight while she muttered his name like it was the last word she could remember. 

Zuko loved how she clung to him. He loved her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, her sex around his cock. He loved it all, and he could hardly think straight as he watched her face unfold in pure ecstasy. Her little gasps and moans, and her touch, the way she pressed her body against him– it was all enough to send him, too, over the edge. 

“ _Katara_ ,” Zuko moaned as his head befell her chest and he exhaled in a single, shaken breath. Zuko rode out the extent of the moment, coming inside her with ebbing thrusts until he was left breathless. He pulled himself out of her only to lay atop her, his head over her chest, listening to the waning thumping of her heart. He slung his arm over her, his hand resting on her forearm where his finger began to trace lazy circles, and Zuko was all smiles and bright, rosy cheeks. 

He tilted his head and kissed her chest delicately, laughing happily and satiated, but without much other cause. He hoped she felt the same, despite his inability to yet return her sentiment. “I like it out here… getting away from it all, just getting to be with you– just us, no acting, no royalty… that’s what Ember Island was for my family. I really would love to show you Ember Island, Katara… I want to show you the Fire Nation– where I come from… the places important to me, as you’ve shown me yours.”

* * *

“We could go,” Katara said, tracing down his spine with her fingertips. She felt goosebumps rise on his skin. “I was going to have a cargo ship sent for Druk… we could go along, visit for a bit, then come back with him. He’d probably like traveling with you better than alone.” 

Katara smiled to herself. “Do you think he’ll let me ride him? I’ve always wanted to fly,” she mused quietly. “I think it’d be thrilling, to be on something so quick and strong.”

“What is it like? Training a dragon?” Katara asked. She moved her fingers through his hair, then, still daydreaming happily. “Is it difficult? Or are they just… intuitive creatures?” 

“I’ve only ever trained polar bear dogs and reindeer. There’s nothing too exciting about that, though a polar bear dog can make a great companion if he’s brought up correctly,” Katara explained. “My brother had one for a while… then he found a sabertooth moose lion and trained him. That was a sight.” 

* * *

Zuko shot up in excitement as soon as she replied. His hair was unkempt, and his face was riddled with sleepiness, but he wanted to stay up for the lights. Zuko smiled brightly, his lips shifting askew to bear his pearly whites, and his eyes twinkled eagerly.  “Oh Spirits, Kat, you’d love it, I swear,” he pressed, looking at her as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Especially Ember Island, it’s gorgeous there… the beach is so warm, and we have a lovely shore house there. There’s a quaint little village right there, we can get dinner in it, and drinks, and there are little shops. It’s so nice… I’d love for you to see it– and be warm,” Zuko said with a laugh, his voice increasing with excitement at the mere thought. 

“And Druk… you’ll love Druk, and you’ll love Caldera too,” Zuko emphasized. “It’s a beautiful city with a million things to do. You could live there your whole life and still be missing things,” Zuko went on. “Druk is the sweetest dragon– sweetest creature you’ll ever meet,” gushed her husband. “I miss him so… he’ll love you. I know he will. He’s so sweet, not at all how people think. Whenever I tell people, they’d look at me like I was insane, then look at my uncle like he was a fool for allowing it,” Zuko said with a laugh, “But, Uncle loves Druk too– he’ll be sorry to see him go. Druk will be happy though. I only worry if he’ll be warm enough here,” Zuko whispered, but shook the thought. 

“Dragons are eager to please those they bond with. Druk is very smart- it was easy for me to train him. All I did was use some carrots as an incentive. He loves carrots, so I’ll make sure to bring those along too,” laughed Zuko. “He’ll let you ride him, for sure. We won’t even need a ship back here. We’ll beat the ship back with days to spare,” boasted Zuko, thinking of his scaled companion. 

Zuko still was in awe Katara was allowing Druk to come to the South Pole. He felt inexplicably lucky that she was permitting such a thing, and that she was letting him speak at the upcoming Summit, and that he could go home– and fuck, most of all, that she was in love with him. Zuko could hardly wrap his head around it all. It felt far too good to be true. How did this all happen? When everyone told him he’d be little more than a  glorified sex slave? Why were the sages so cruel? Whatever their false information or harsh motives didn’t matter. The opposite couldn’t be truer, and Zuko couldn’t be happier.

Zuko laughed at the story about Sokka. Zuko wished he could’ve gotten to know her brother. He sounded like a great man– he sounded like someone Zuko could’ve befriended. It would have been nice to have another friend down here. Though, if Sokka were here, Zuko didn’t know where he’d go. Sokka would be the heir, and things would all be different, probably better, still different. 

“My cousin, Lu Ten, writes me about his wife and her polar bear dog and how she misses him so,” Zuko noted, lying back down on her chest, smirking. “I was going to ask why and how your brother managed to do that, but based on your other stories, I don’t even think I have to,” teased Zuko as his eyes fluttered reluctantly shut, sleepily. 

“Thank you, Katara… thank you for letting Druk come here– you have no idea how much that means to me.”


	13. Chapter 13

“I just want you to be happy,” Katara whispered. She rolled to her side, facing him, and cupped Zuko’s cheek as he settled beside her. “That’s all I want, like I said from the beginning. And if you’ll be happier with Druk here…” 

“Can he really carry us all that way?” she asked, her train of though shifting. “I can’t even imagine it. It’s… it takes weeks by ship. Will he not get tired?” 

Katara shook her head in disbelief, then relaxed on her pillow and swept her hair off her neck. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, tucking the fur around Zuko’s shoulders and nuzzling closer to him. 

“I just… I can’t wait to see it all, Druk and the Fire Nation,” Katara said. “I could even meet your uncle and Lu Ten. It’ll be better to break the ice before they come here for the Summit. Is Lu Ten happy with Yue? Has he said?” 

* * *

“Well, he’ll have to stop to sleep, of course,” Zuko assured her. “And, he needs to eat— use the little dragon’s room, that sort of thing,” Zuko said with a laugh, “But, we’re like nothing on his back— you’ll see. He’s huge. People get scared by the sheer size of him, but you couldn’t have a gentler companion,” he promised, snuggling under the blanket as Katara pulled it up over him warmly.

“I can’t wait to show you,” replied Zuko with a smirking yawn. “I’ll introduce you to Uncle and Lu Ten— and I’ll meet Princess Yue, I hope,” added Zuko. “I’m very happy,” Zuko replied teasingly, but rubbed his eyes as he answered the question with a deep sigh.

“You mustn’t tell Princess Yue… my cousin wrote to me with confidentiality and trust, but…” Zuko began with a sigh. “Please understand, my cousin is a good man. He’s a kind man, and a loving man. He takes to Princess Yue dearly, but they have little in common. They’re having a hard time befriending each other, but they try. Lu Ten loved another girl from the countryside named Shi Lee. He still loves her— not Princess Yue. I think that’s making things hard,” Zuko explained. “He would never betray her or their marriage, don’t misunderstand me, but it’s hard to bond with his wife when he wishes he had a different one… and Princess Yue, no matter how hard my uncle and cousin try to be warm to her, and kind… she’s still stuck alone in a country that made hers bleed.”

* * *

“Oh.” Katara tried to make her voice upbeat, but it fell flat. “That’s… understandable, I guess. She’s in a strange place. He was forced to marry her… I imagine it’s not an easy situation for either of them.”  

Katara swallowed a lump in her throat and rolled to her back. Her eyes watched the ceiling, and she kept her face as blank as a clean slate, carefully reconstructing the walls she’d let down that day. It was so similar, so eerily the same as her situation—

A royal who didn’t want her, who’d been dragged from his home, who’d been forced to wed her and bed her and care for her. She wondered if he really did, if it wasn’t all part of an act, much like the poised and perfect display Yue was undoubtedly putting on. 

And somehow, she’d fallen for it. She loved him, and Katara knew she’d never get that feeling back. Zuko had her heart, her soul. _It could all be a lie._

She peeked sideways, the reality of that sinking into her bones. Was she foolish? Should she have waited to confess her love? Should she have given him more time, felt him out for longer, learned about his past and his previous lovers? 

Zuko caught her looking. Katara was quick to avert her gaze, turning her eyes back to the ceiling of the igloo.

It was dark out; she could tell that from the formed ice. In the darkness, she could make out the first slivers of green and blue, the dashes of yellow, pink, and purple that lit up the night sky. 

Katara slipped from beneath the blankets and dressed again, before finding Zuko’s boots and furs. “It’s time,” she said. “Get dressed and meet me out there.” 

* * *

“Katara, I–” began Zuko, his heart dropping when he realized what he’d said, and how it must sound to her. “The Fire Nation is very different from the Southern Water Tribe… Yue is in the nation that the rest of the world must still hold in their hearts as the enemy,” Zuko whispered, “The Fire Nation killed her mother too… it must be hard for her,” Zuko tried to explain, but he could tell it was too little, too late. His damage control was likely just creating extra debris. 

He watched her as she stared at the ceiling, looking as though she was full of dread. Zuko sighed, giving his wife’s arm a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure her. He wasn’t lying; he was happy here, with her. Katara made him very happy, and he didn’t have any doubts. Since day one, as she’d just reiterated, all she wanted was his happiness. He was happy, but to say such a thing about Yue, in such a similar situation must’ve hurt her and set seeds of doubt. 

Zuko felt like a fool, and couldn’t find a proper moment to even try to smooth it over again, so he too stared off in worry. Katara only shook him from that when she stood, and began dressing herself in the many layers. Zuko followed suit, slowly putting on his layers of clothes, and buttoning up his shirts, then his coat. He wrapped the scarf Katara made him around his neck, put on earmuffs, a woolen hat, buttoning at the chin, then tugging up his hood too. Finally, he put on his mittens, and headed outside to the windy cold, crawling from the igloo. 

He sighed, his heart feeling heavy at the newfound rift forged between them. Zuko wished he could mend it, and bring back the lighter atmosphere that existed only moments ago. He thought he’d at least try. Zuko came up beside Katara, linking his arm with hers, and greeting her with a tender, sleepy smile. His sleepiness was stopped dead in its tracks when he saw her eyes– and the reflection in them: the Northern Lights. 

Zuko turned his head slowly, and his jaw dropped when he saw the lights. He laughed in disbelief, and he was entirely fixated on the aurora. He was speechless, and the lights had taken his breath away. Zuko had never seen anything close to this in his life. He was mesmerized by the way the lights danced in hues of purples and blues in the starry, midnight blue sky. 

* * *

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Despite herself, Katara leaned into Zuko when he embraced her. All of her wanted to shut him out, but she couldn’t, not for a handful of minutes, even. 

She laid her head back on his shoulder and watched the sky, quietly musing about who Zuko might have at home. It was inconceivable that he’d gone twenty-three years loving _no one—_ She’d done it, but only by the conscious choice not to break her heart over someone she’d ultimately lose. She’d lost everyone, growing up. 

And now, Katara had that sinking feeling she was going to lose Zuko, too. Or maybe she never had him. He didn’t strike her as the type to wall himself off on purpose. He had to have someone back home; that had to be why he  _cared deeply_ for her, but didn’t love her.

Katara’s breath hissed through her teeth and she tugged her coat tighter, looking down at the snow-covered ground. She hated feeling so insecure and vulnerable. It made her heart race, made her stomach sick. Katara honestly felt dizzy and sick… because she was pining for a fucking man. 

_Spirits,_ she hated this. 

* * *

“I’ve never seen _anything_ like this,” he told her, totally captivated by nature’s dazzling light display. “Well, _almost_ ,” he teased her, intertwining their fingers. Zuko used his free hand to coax her chin over and kiss her deeply, smiling against her lips. He pecked the side of her mouth before pulling back away to see the glistening lights. 

“I could stare at them all night,” he admitted. “They don’t look real,” he mused aloud, his thumb tracing over her hand. “Do you know what I mean? Well, you get used to things… but the snow capped mountains here, when I first saw those, they looked like a painting out of a picture postcard that my uncle sent me when I was young… I felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. They were too pretty to be real,” Zuko said with a bit of a sheepish laugh, embarrassed to be speaking such frivolous things aloud. “I bet you’re used to them though… like how people say the ocean on the beaches in the Fire Nation don’t look real… the water is too blue and clear, and the sand is too white, but I’m used to it, numb to it,” Zuko continued, his eyes not moving from the sky all the while. 

Zuko wrapped his arm around Katara’s waist, tugging her over closer as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Zuko put his head on hers, and smiled. He still felt inexplicably lucky and blessed. He could have wound up with a woman akin in demeanor to his sister. He felt terrible for the prince in the Earth Kingdom. But instead, he was put with Katara. He felt more connected to her by force than anyone else he’d chosen. He didn’t think Katara would seek him out otherwise, but their arranged marriage, but she was happy with him. They were both happy with each other. Zuko almost wanted to thank his uncle for sending him away. He never felt a stronger connection or bond to anyone, not Jin, not Mai, no one– friend, family, or lover. In a mere matter of such small time, Katara already was so instrumentally important to him, and he trusted her far greater than so many who’d graced his life so long. 

Zuko kissed Katara’s forehead, tilting his head. He smirked, “I could really sit here all night until my neck was stuck tilted back, but you’re more than free to get some rest.”

* * *

Katara nodded, smiling faintly, and pecked his cheek. “Okay, just try to keep warm,” she said, squeezing his hand. _Was he trying to dismiss her?_ She forced herself to swallow the question and disappeared inside the igloo. 

Alone, it was even more difficult to calm her thoughts. She undressed and wondered about what Zuko said, how the scenery started as a painting at first, but he slowly got used to it all. She worried that’s how he saw her, like some exotic, picturesque woman and soon, the novelty would wear off. He’d get sick of her, of having to please her and be kind to her. 

Would she be strong enough to condemn that kind of behavior?

Katara doubted it as she curled up beneath the blankets and found herself wishing Zuko was there, too. He’d taken her strength and made her weak, made her fall in love with him. 

Tears stung her eyes, and Katara closed them, willing herself to think of anyone, anything else. When she heard Zuko come in sometime later, she kept her eyes shut tight, despite the tears leaking past her lashes to stain her cheeks, and didn’t move. 

* * *

Zuko stood out in the snow for what felt like minutes, but blended into at least an hour. If it weren’t for his accumulating weariness, he could’ve stared at them until his eyes melted. He felt silly for being so enamored with these lights, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of them.  

Finally, sleep beckoned him, and the chill of the night wind, whipping shards of snow into his face made him retreat. Zuko crawled back in the igloo, and smiled softly at the sight of his wife. He was eager to curl up beside her beneath the blankets. He added ammo to the fire, and sprouted a flame in his palm to generate more light so he could see what he was doing. 

Zuko tried to be quiet as he undressed down to his clothes, leaving his furs, hat, scarf, and everything else in a pile beside Katara’s. He walked over then, yawning and ready to get into bed, when in the light of his flame illuminated Katara’s face. Zuko did a double-take, and then used a low-lit flame to highlight her face again, and frowned deeply when it was corroborated that her cheeks were stained with tears. 

“Katara,” murmured Zuko in deep-seated concern, kneeling to the icy ground before her. He extinguished the flame in his hand, and they were left in the dim lighting the fire produced. He cupped her cheek gently, stroking away her tear with his thumb. “Hey–” whispered Zuko, “What’s the matter?” he asked worriedly. “Katara, what happened?” he spoke. “Are you all right? What’s going on?” Zuko asked quietly. “Please talk to me.”

* * *

“Nothing,” Katara lied, swiping at her other cheek hurriedly. She opened her eyes, finding Zuko close and concerned. “I’m tired.” 

She tugged her chin free of his head and turned onto her side to face away from him, blinking quickly to keep fresh tears from falling. “It’s not anything you can fix, anyway, so don’t worry… It’s been an emotional day, and I’m just… tired.” 

She prayed Zuko would leave it, because how could she explain that her tears were caused by him? She couldn’t. He’d feel guilty and ultimately end up apologizing or lying, and she’d lied earlier when she said she’d rather he pretend to love her.

Katara curled up tighter, drawing her knees up and pulling the blankets up to her nose. “I’m fine, Zuko.” Her voice was muffled and quiet. “Really. Just go to sleep.” 

* * *

“It’s not nothing,” Zuko insisted, but gently. “I know you’re tired, but you’re often tired, Katara– this isn’t just tired, you’re upset,” Zuko whispered, placing an affectionate hand on her arm from behind. “I know I can’t fix it… but sometimes it helps to talk about it,” Zuko explained, “If you don’t want to, I- I’ll let it go, but… know that you can trust me,” Zuko added.

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head as he squeezed her arm. “I can’t sleep, Katara. I can’t sleep when my wife is lying here _crying_ , and it’s likely my own doing,” he answered. “Even if it weren’t, I don’t think I could just nod off while my wife cried herself to sleep,” muttered Zuko. He assumed it was because he didn’t return her feelings. She was hurting because he didn’t love her, at least not yet, but when you tell someone you love them, a procrastinated answer hurts the same as none at all. 

Zuko swallowed thickly and looked downward, not knowing what to do or say, but knowing he couldn’t just leave it like this. He knew that sometimes people didn’t want to talk, sometimes he didn’t want to– most of the time, rather. It was easier to close himself off, but he knew nine times out of ten, when he’d open up to his uncle or cousin, or Jin when she was around, he felt a million times lighter simply because he said it aloud, and someone would give him a hug. He knew he wasn’t alone that way. It made the world of a difference, even if it was harder. 

It was easier from the outside than in though. If he was pouting, he’d probably act the same, and someone would probe him to open up, and he’d fear burdening them, and keep quiet. He had a funny way of not heeding his own advice. Maybe Katara just needed him to be there. Maybe she needed him to go away, too. 

“I’m sorry, Katara– if I hurt you… I’m sorry.” 

* * *

“You don’t owe me an apology, Zuko. You don’t owe me anything, actually.” Katara swallowed a sigh, not wanted him to hear the dejection it. She didn’t want to face him either, but Katara knew he hadn’t purposefully done anything to warrant her attitude.

She turned to her back, slowly, like a petulant child coming to face discipline from a parent. Her expression was sheepish, and Katara still refused to look Zuko in the eye— she feared crying again— despite the worry etched into his features.

“I’m fine,” Katara said, again. She glanced at him, then glanced away just as quickly. “Or, I will be… in the morning. I don’t want to talk, okay? Because it’s not something you can fix and it would be selfish of me to imply that you need to try.”

She tucked herself in again, this time curled toward him, at least. “Let’s try to sleep. We can talk in the morning if you still want to.” Katara closed her eyes then, and whispered quietly, “I love you, Zuko. That won’t changed.”

* * *

Zuko didn’t believe her, but sighed, resigning to let it go, at least aloud. He didn’t want to upset her by pestering her to open up when she didn’t want to. Nobody liked that. So, he just nodded, and tried to appear all right with that. Zuko always worried, though. Katara did know him well enough to know that. He was a worrywart, and it was hard for him to let go. He was also a good pretender. 

He crawled into the blankets beside her, giving her an encouraging smile. Zuko tucked a lock of hair behind Katara’s ear, and kissed her gently at her words, wishing he could return them. He wrapped his arm around her, and let his eyes fall shut, but sleep was still elusive. 

The next morning came, and Zuko was up with the sun. The night had been long, and he was glad when day broke. The rest of their trip passed just fine. Zuko wanted to talk to her about the night before, but she dismissed it again, though her mood became more positive as the next few days went on happily. They sat by the fire, explored the ship, talked until their voices were hoarse, and watched the lights. Finally, it was time to depart the little igloo by the ship and head back to reality– to the palace in the Southern Water Tribe. It was there, Katara proposed the idea to Hakoda about Druk, and requested a home for him be constructed. 

Hakoda agreed without hesitation, and Zuko was so overcome with his gratitude and excitement, he embraced his father-in-law, who returned the hug eagerly. All that was left was to back for their voyage to the warmer land, and this time, it was Katara who hardly had any proper clothing. Zuko assured her there would be plenty of clothes for her in the palace, and suggested borrowing Yue’s while she shopped for her own. 

They boarded the ship a few days later, and Zuko’s heart was alight with joy and excitement. Standing on the dock by the railing, he was overcome by emotion when Katara came up behind him. Zuko’s eyes were blurry with happy tears, and he wiped them away sheepishly at the sound of footsteps. He smiled when he realized who it was, but still blushed. 

“I’m just so happy,” Zuko said with a laugh. “I never thought I’d see the Fire Nation again, and now… you’re coming with me, and everything’s fine. It’s better than fine… I thought I may never see Uncle or Lu Ten or Druk again, but here we go, less than a year, and– and we’re going, together… I’m just so happy, Katara,” Zuko admitted with a laugh, walking over and into her arms gratefully and full of deep affection. 

* * *

“I’m happy _for_ you,” Katara laughed, linking her hands around his waist. She tilted her head back to kiss him before resting her cheek on his chest. The Water Tribe ship sounded a blast, signaling its departure, and Katara felt her stomach flutter as the sails caught the wind.

“This must’ve been how you felt, sort of,” she commented. “I’m actually nervous. I want them to like me, your uncle and Lu Ten, but Druk especially, since he’ll be coming home with us.” 

* * *

Zuko laughed again, shaking his head. “I still am in so much shock,” Zuko told her, holding her close. “Home… I’m going _home_ ,” he murmured fondly, smiling before pressing her against his chest.

When she spoke, Zuko left out the part where how his entire survival and quality of life rested solely in if she and her family liked him. She was still right- the butterflies are the same, the nerves. He had no doubts though, they’d all adore her. What wasn’t there to like?

His uncle would simply be happy that she loved him. Whenever he wrote, he asked of him in worry. Zuko tried not to hold spite. He loved his uncle, and didn’t want to hold things against him, but sometimes he felt bitter the only person he trusted, the father figure who saved him from banishment from his own father, had all but turned around and done the same thing, just to a milder degree.

But, his uncle would adore her. Lu Ten would adore her. Druk would go crazy for her. Zuko was nervous to meet Yue, but excited too.

“They’ll love you, believe me,” Zuko assured her. “My uncle is very kind. He’s not like what people assume of the Fire Nation royalty. He’s a very loving man— he has a great sense of humor. My cousin is quiet, but also very humble, kind,” Zuko explained. “And, Druk, well, there’s no question— he’ll adore you,” Zuko promised. “I hope Princess Yue doesn’t hate me… she is my— what? Cousin-in-law?” Joked Zuko. “But, if you two are close, I hope she will find me tolerable.”

* * *

“Cousin-in-law, yes,” Katara smirked, bumping Zuko’s nose with her own. “I think that makes her my cousin-in-law, too, but… who knows?” She smiled, then a happy laugh bubbled up, uncontainable. 

“It’s going to be fun, Zuko. Yue will love you because I love you. I’m sure a lot of her reservation with Lu Ten has to do with his affection for another woman… Yue isn’t stupid or naive,” Katara said, settling back on her heels and holding Zuko’s forearms. “She knows her husband loves another.” 

With her words, Katara couldn’t bring herself to keep looking at him, so she pulled back and settled against the ship’s railing. She still harbored worries in her heart. Although Zuko had never given her a reason to doubt him and she never asked, Katara had been afraid he might love someone else since their outing.  

She hoped this trip would help, though. His uncle and cousin would certainly help her learn more about Zuko, and Katara could return home with her worries put to rest. 

Katara smiled thoughtfully and turned to look out over the waves. 

///////////

Their ship made excellent time, and they stepped onto the shores of the Fire Nation just three weeks later. Everything was green; so green and colorful. If not for Zuko’s hand in hers, Katara would’ve stopped on the docks and stared at the trees, the flowers, the ocean for hours.

And aside from its physical beauty, the air was so thick Katara thought she could bend it. It clung to her, like droplets of rain, somehow invisible, but tangible. Zuko told her it was the rainy season, which brought almost unbearable humidity— she loved this. She was surrounded by water, without the bone-breaking cold. 

She was _hot,_ though. Zuko had light silks to wear, but she was dressed in a wool tunic and leggings. Despite the tunic’s short sleeves, sweat was beading on Katara’s arms and forehead. 

“I might need to shop before we get to the palace,” she muttered, tugging on Zuko’s hand. “Look at me. I’m a drenched mess. I can’t meet the Fire Lord and Crown Prince looking like a drowned rat!” 

“Actually, my dear,” a soft, kind voice greeted them, pulling Katara’s attention from her garments to a simply dressed man with a warm smile, “you look quite lovely.”  The man’s smile broadened to a grin, and he bowed to her.

“Princess Katara, it’s an honor to welcome you… and my nephew.” The man straightened, and Katara realized this was the great and mighty Fire Lord she’d been imagining. 

Lord Iroh rushed to Zuko and embraced him fiercely. “Oh, my nephew. How good it is to have you home.” 

* * *

Zuko was ecstatic to be back in the Fire Nation. It felt like a dream. He couldn’t fathom that he was back, walking along these shores again. It was so hot, compared to the brutal climate of his new homeland. Zuko didn’t feel sweltering the way Katara did, and some of it was likely due to his proper attire, but he felt right at home again. He loved the weather, and the chirping birds, and the sunshine on his face, and the flowers everywhere. He promised to get Katara clothes as soon as they went to town, and she could borrow some of Yue’s in the meantime so she wouldn’t have to stroll the streets in sweat. 

But, that was all put on hold when Zuko turned around at the sound of his uncle’s warm, comforting, and familiar voice. His face fell, but in an uplifting way, a touched way. Zuko all but collapsed into his uncle’s arms, wrapping his arms around him tight. Zuko instantly broke into overwhelmed tears as he embraced his uncle. “ _ **Uncle**_ ,” choked Zuko, his face scrunching in emotion as he buried his face into his uncle’s shoulder. 

“Spirits, Uncle,” Zuko choked out, his voice hoarse with restrained tears that broke through. Zuko’s shoulders wracked, his back shaking as he quietly cried against the old man. “They told me I’d never see you again,” Zuko murmured, muffled into Iroh’s shirt. “They– They said I’d never come home again. The sages,” Zuko clarified. “Why?” choked out Zuko. “Why would they tell me–?” Zuko mumbled, shaking his head against his uncle. “I– I thought I’d never see the Fire Nation again, or you, or Lu Ten— I- I was sure of it, and… only because of _Katara_ ,” Zuko whispered, pulling from Iroh a moment to smile at her, though he was embarrassed at his display of vulnerability. “It’s only because of _Katara_.”

* * *

Katara waited in the background while the pair embraced, smiling privately with her eyes on the ground. The moment seemed intimate and special, despite the hustle and bustle of the docks. She realized Zuko had been completely and utterly serious when he claimed Iroh was more of a father to him. 

She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the buildings and then up to the blue sky. Tears lined her lashes. Katara thanked whatever gods there were that she hadn’t kept this from Zuko.

Zuko turned towards her then, pulling Katara from her thoughts. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled, bowing her head out of respect for the Fire Lord. “Your nephew has made me incredibly happy, Lord Iroh. I thought it only fitting that we celebrate our third month of marriage here, in his homeland.” 

“Zuko wasn’t lying when he said it was beautiful,” Katara remarked, reaching for Zuko’s hand with both hers. She grinned up at him, overjoyed by the light in his eyes. Then, she laughed and smirked at Iroh. “He wasn’t kidding about the heat, either. I think I might melt.” 

* * *

Zuko pulled away laughing from his uncle, swatting at his face to clear his tears as he embraced his wife next after she grabbed his hand. Zuko kissed Katara’s cheek, then her lips happily, left an emotional wreck as he murmured apologies for getting so worked up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry– I’m just… I’m really happy,” Zuko assured them apologetically, rubbing Katara’s side as he faced his beloved uncle.

“Katara has made me happy too, Uncle. I can’t take all the credit,” jested the prince. “I wanted to show her the Fire Nation, and… I’m sorry to say, but we’ve also come to pick up Druk, and visit you and Lu Ten, of course,” Zuko explained. 

“It’s hot, but I almost forgot how much I love it,” said Zuko. “Why don’t we get you some clothes to borrow, then we’ll go see Lu Ten and Yue, and after that we can go shopping downtown?” suggested Zuko, “Later tonight I can show you around the palace, and for dinner we can go out somewhere. I’ve had sea prunes, so we’ll introduce _you_ to some Fire Nation cuisine,” Zuko said with a smirk, betting a challenge. 


	14. Chapter 14

Iroh invited them to walk the distance to the palace, which Katara accepted eagerly. Even in her overheated state, she wanted to see the city and the many things it had to offer. 

There was so much color. Everywhere. From the trees to the birds to the people and their homes, the entire nation was bright and vibrant. By the time they reached the Fire Nation’s palace a half hour later, Katara felt overwhelmed by it all. 

She took a deep breath as they stepped into the cool foyer, surreptitiously bending sweat from her face to, at least, _look_ acclimated. Her clothes were sticking to her though, and she sighed in relief when Iroh offered her a glass of iced tea. 

“It’s a deliciously sweet, peach blend. I came up with it myself,” he boasted. “I’m sure my nephew told you all about my love of tea.” 

“He did, yes.” Katara laughed, taking a sip. “He also said you’re quite talented with tea… and I have to agree with him.” 

The Fire Lord looked flattered. He grinned from ear to ear, then showed them to their room. Their things had already been brought in, but the bed was covered with red silks for Katara to choose from.

“Princess Yue thought you’d need some things to wear,” Iroh remarked. “She had these garments made for you, so they are yours to keep. No need for shopping.” Iroh winked at her. “However, if you wish to see the markets, I am more than happy to accompany you.” 

Katara smiled, “That sounds lovely. I would like some souvenirs, and who better than the Fire Lord and Tea Grandmaster to show me around Caldera?”

“Oh, you flatter me, my dear,” Iroh chuckled, then jabbed Zuko in the ribs. He whispered, but not at all quietly, “I like her, Prince Zuko. Keep her around.” 

* * *

Zuko walked the familiar corridors of the palace with a vibrant smile. Everything felt so warm and light, and his uncle was beside him, and Katara was on his arm. Zuko couldn’t be happier. They sat on the veranda, sipping tea and laughing. Zuko never could have imagined this life where he was with his arranged wife and his uncle in the Fire Nation– laughing, smiling, telling stories together. It felt like a dream. 

Zuko blushed when his uncle teased him, but looked over at his wife, “Don’t worry, Uncle, treaties aside, I’d still plan on it,” he whispered with the same volume with the intent of her overhearing. He squeezed Katara’s hand, and smiled at his uncle again. 

* * *

“You know, we could spend our winters here,” Katara mused aloud, listening to Iroh and Zuko jest about her. All joking aside, after the minimal time she’d spent in the Fire Nation, Katara liked Iroh’s suggestion of keeping her around. 

She’d never been so warm in her life, so sun-soaked. Now that she’d changed from her heavy tunic into a linen halter top, the golden rays felt lovely on her bare arms and belly. Katara pulled her skirt higher, letting the sun tan her shins and knees, too. 

“That would be nice, don’t you think?” She put aside her iced tea and met Zuko’s and Iroh’s astonished gazes. “The winters in the South are awful, and I’ve spent most of my life there. There’s… _unbelievable_ amounts of snow, blizzards, hardly any sunlight. We could split our time…” 

Katara tilted her head back in her seat, closing her eyes with a happy smile.  _“I_ could sit out here like this every day, and Zuko, you’d get more time with Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten.” She peeked at Iroh then, “Where is Lu Ten? And Yue? Surely, they knew we were coming.” 

* * *

At Katara’s suggestion, Zuko lit up like the Northern Lights. It was wonderful enough being here, but summers? All summer long– here, home– with Uncle and Lu Ten? It had to be too good to be true. Zuko looked at her, almost in disbelief. He shook his head, his eyes fogging over, and a wide, wide smile overtaking his face. “…Nice? Katara, that… that would be… Agni, I don’t even know what to say. You’re serious?” Zuko whispered, biting his lip as he shook his head more, laughing to himself in disbelief as he’d done this whole voyage. 

Zuko swallowed thickly, and walked over to his wife then, embracing her tightly because words could not suffice. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his cheek pressed to hers as he whispered in her ear, “That would be the best thing in the entire world to me,” he told her with a tender laugh, hugging her even more tightly with deep appreciation and even deeper affection as he fell harder and faster every day for Katara. 

His embrace was only interrupted by the rapping at the door, and Iroh’s warm smile. “My son and his beautiful wife!” Iroh boasted, getting up to hug both of them. “Were you hiding from our lovely company? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you two all day long!” Iroh teased. “Lu Ten, introduce yourself to the lovely Princess Katara– future heiress to the throne of the Southern Water Tribe. And, lovely daughter-in-law of mine, Princess Yue of the Northern Tribe, mother of my future grandchild,” Iroh said with a smirk, gesturing to Yue’s budding belly as she was pregnant already. “This is my nephew, Prince Zuko, I hope soon to be father to my grand-niece or nephew,” teased Iroh, pointing each party to the other.

Zuko smiled brightly at Lu Ten, wanting to embrace his cousin, but felt not to be rude to Princess Yue. Zuko bowed to her respectfully, taking her hand and kissing it upon introduction. “Princess Yue, I am very pleased to meet you,” Zuko stated, glancing over the woman, “Congratulations to you both. That’s wonderful news. You must be happy,” Zuko said with a bright smile. Yue had soft blue eyes in a lighter shade than Katara’s. Her hair was a pearly white, and her features were very soft, almost like snow. She was very pretty, as Katara had mentioned, but he stood by his prior statement. No one was prettier than Katara.

Lu Ten, however, didn’t seem as stuck on his opinions. He already had his eyes on Katara, and Zuko pouted in annoyance at their exchange. “Princess Katara, if I may have the pleasure,” began Lu Ten, kneeling before her as he took her hand and kissed it in a more grandiose performance. “Welcome to the Fire Nation. I hope it’s to your liking, even if some of our selection of men aren’t,” jested Lu Ten, but he elbowed his cousin in teasing. “I’m joking, Zuko, lighten up,” Lu Ten said with a smirk, eyeing Katara again, “He’s a bit of a hardass,” teased Lu Ten in a faux whisper in deliberate earshot of his cousin. 

“Are all Water Tribe women this delightfully gorgeous?” Lu Ten boasted, gesturing to Yue then Katara. “I mean, look at her, she’s like a painting. Zuko, you married up. We both did, matter of fact, but I’m just taken aback. Are all of your people just naturally gorgeous?” teased Lu Ten, and Yue rolled her eyes in envy– but it was hard to say of whom she was jealous. “By Agni, Uncle, I don’t think I’d be doing her justice if I refused to comment on just how beautiful you are, Princess Katara. You must excuse my boldness, I hope I’m not coming off too eccentric, but I just feel blessed to be surrounded by such lovely women right now, and of course, my dear cousin.”

Zuko smiled then, and finally walked over to Lu Ten, and his cousin pulled him into an embrace. “I missed you,” Zuko spoke lowly and Lu Ten patted his back before pulling back to look at his younger cousin. 

“I missed you too, Zuko,” Lu Ten said with sincerity, squeezing his cousin’s forearm. “You owe me for feeding Druk every day. He’s the hungriest and most needy creature this side of the River Hui,” teased Lu Ten, and Zuko smiled widely, taking Katara’s hand. 

“Katara, you have to meet Druk!” 

* * *

She was blushing profusely still, even after the attention from Lu Ten shifted to Zuko. The cousins embraced, and Katara watched the exchange with heat in her cheeks. A glance at Yue, and she was even pinker. Her friend didn’t look happy, and Katara couldn’t blame her.

Katara’s expression shifted to a frown as Lu Ten exclaimed about Druk, and she stepped to her friend, taking Yue’s arm. “I know, I will,” she assuaged, smiling at Lu Ten then at Yue. “In a bit, though. He can wait a little longer, right? Or you and Zuko can go ahead of us; let us catch up?”

She gave Zuko a sympathetic look, hoping he’d understand, then tugged Yue off towards the more secluded part of the garden.

“So, your husband is—“

“A flirt?” Yue finished, and a heavy sigh followed.

Katara squeezed her arm, stopping at a bench to sit. She didn’t want to wear out her expectant friend. “I’m not supposed to know… but Zuko told me,” she prompted, brushing her fingers through the ends of Yue’s hair.

Her friend grumbled lowly. “He’s in love with some girl in the country,” Yue said. “He told me on our wedding night. He said he’d be faithful and true to me, but his heart belonged to someone else. Fortunately, I only had to bed him once and well—“ Yue gestured at her stomach flippantly. “We play the part for the people. That’s all the treaty requires, isn’t it?”

“I suppose…” Katara swallowed, looking away. “It’s still sad.”

“It’s an arranged marriage, Katara. It’s to be expected,” Yue argued, her face pinched. “Why? Is it so different for you? I see you’re not pregnant— does Zuko love someone else? So much so that he can’t even uphold his duties?”

Katara scowled. “We’re not trying.”

“Not trying?”

“Not yet.”

“Haven’t you consummated?”

“Yes,” Katara snapped then. “A hundred times. We’re just not ready for kids.” She hissed through her nose, frustrated. “There’s no rush for us, Yue. My dad is young and healthy. I’m not taking over anytime soon. I’m sorry if things are different here, but I don’t understand why you’re—“

Yue cut in. “I’m jealous,” she admitted, looking away. “I’m sorry, but I’m jealous, Katara.”

“Oh, Yue…”

“I see the letters Zuko sends. I see the way he talks about you, what he tells Lu Ten. He’s enamored with you. He’s happy. I’m competing for attention against some woman he’ll never forget and Zuko has a wife who’s fallen in love with him!”

Yue’s eyes locked on Katara in the silence, tears in them. Katara didn’t resent her friend for them. She knew this could’ve been her own life. She was prepared for this to be her life. Instead, her heart ached and her cheeks hurt from the urge to cry with Yue.

Katara cupped her friend’s chin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tenderly. “I’m so sorry, Yue. It’s not fair to you. This whole thing isn’t fair to anyone— Lu Ten loves another, you could very well have married a man from your own tribe. I could have a husband who loves me in return, but he doesn’t…“

“Zuko doesn’t love you back?”

“No… he doesn’t. I don’t know if he ever will.”

Yue pursed her lips, swallowed, then laughed under her breath. “We’re going to be loveless, old hags, aren’t we?”

“We will,” Katara agreed, smiling. “But at least Lu Ten thinks we’re pretty.”

* * *

Zuko followed his cousin out to see Druk while his wife and her friend caught up. Everything felt the same. Things were so different, and life was so different, but it felt like he never left. Being away from home, and then coming back always felt that way. You’ve changed, but the place was the same, and somehow, it felt like you never left. 

Zuko loved how the sun felt on his face, and the cool breeze as he walked out excitedly to the stall where Druk resided. Zuko could hardly contain his excitement when he saw the mere stall. Druk popped his head out, and Zuko raced to the dragon. 

Druk knocked down the door, and Zuko leapt up, laughing, and embraced the dragon around the neck while he flung him in the air. Lu Ten stood back, pretending to not be amused at the joyful reunion, but even he couldn’t hold back much longer, and joined in the embrace. 

After moments of Zuko refusing to let go of Druk, and Druk attacking Zuko with big licks, Zuko settled on sitting down with his cousin in the field, petting his dragon’s head as the dragon comfortably nestled beside them. 

“You have a pretty wife, Cousin,” Lu Ten spoke with a mischievous grin, picking at the grass absentmindedly. 

Zuko blushed, but smirked, “So do you, Cousin,” Zuko retorted facetiously, scratching behind Druk’s ear. “And, you’ll have a beautiful baby too… that’s wonderful, you’re having a baby, Lu Ten, really.”

“Isn’t it?” Lu Ten replied, smirking, “I am very happy though, Zuko… thank you,” Lu Ten said more genuinely. “What about you and Katara? No little one for you yet?”

“No…” Zuko replied hesitantly, shrugging. “I… it’s different in the Water Tribe. There’s not as much pressure,” Zuko explained. “I thought maybe she was hesitant about me as a father at first, but then I realized that was me hesitant about me,” laughed the prince. “Katara told me she loves me, Lu Ten.”

Lu Ten looked at Zuko in surprise, and envy glared in his eyes. “She loves you?” he asked in a whisper. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t think she’d lie… she’s… she’s a great woman, Lu Ten. I- I’m very lucky,” Zuko said with a fond smile and a pink to his cheeks. 

“For Agni’s sake… if she loves you there should be no issues in the baby making department,” spoke Lu Ten with a teasing quirk of his eyebrow to which Zuko rolled his eyes, not bothering to humor him with another response. 

“What about Ria?” Zuko asked more delicately– bringing about a somber look from his cousin, and shifting the mood. “I’m sorry… I–”

“No, no, don’t be. It’s… it’s hard,” Lu Ten confessed. “I miss her like all fucking hell, Zuko, I do. I love that woman. I’d marry her if your uncle wasn’t so stubborn and dutiful,” griped the crown prince. “Yue is lovely, don’t get me wrong, but… we’re hardly friends. We’re kind to each other. I’ve only had sex with her once– I don’t know how we managed the baby, but it only takes once, I guess, and I know she wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. I do trust her… we’re just… incompatible. She’s… too serious,” Lu Ten tried to explain. “Ria is the funniest woman on the planet,” Lu Ten said fondly. “I can’t see her anymore, Zuko, you know that. It’s not right. I love her, and I’m married to someone else… I promised Yue I’d be faithful, and I want to be. I plan on it. I owe her that much– bare minimum– really, bare minimum, and I don’t even trust myself with that if I go to Ria,” Lu Ten said, his voice downtrodden. “What about you, Zuko? You came back from the Earth Kingdom swooning over that girl. What was her name? Jara…? Jill? J– Jana? Ugh…?”

“Jin, Lu Ten… her name’s Jin,” Zuko grumbled in irritation, leaning against Druk comfortably. “You know I haven’t seen her since I was a teenager,” complained Zuko, but he sighed. “I did love her,” he admitted quietly. “But… I don’t know. I don’t, not anymore. I’d be thrilled to see her again, sure,  and I hope she’s well, and happy… but I’m falling for _Katara_ , Lu Ten. She’s the only one I think about,” Zuko said, feeling stupid for being so vulnerable, even with his cousin. “I’m… afraid or something though. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re scared she’ll squash your heart like a bug like everyone else,” Lu Ten stated, and Zuko scowled. “I don’t mean that in a harsh way, Zuko. Just don’t lie to yourself. You’re scared she’ll break your heart, so you’re holding back. I don’t blame you. You’re out there all alone in the ice and cold with people who otherwise hate you and our family and our country and our culture and everything else about us… she says she loves you, but you make one wrong move and the treaty’s shattered, and you’re as good as dead, so I’d be pretty fucking scared too,” Lu Ten rattled off without even thinking, scoffing a laugh, but Zuko was less than amused– and hurt by Lu Ten’s casual and harsh analysis.

“You don’t know what you're talking about, Lu Ten,” Zuko hissed, standing up as he clapped his hands together from the stains of grass and dirt. “They’re not all bigots. Sure, they have some prejudices from the war when we tried to… I don’t know– kill them all! But, Katara had red put into our wedding ceremony. I was the penance, Lu Ten. We can’t all be so lucky as to stay home with Uncle and simply have a pretend marriage where nothing changes. I wasn’t so lucky in that regard, but I’ve still got a wife who loves me,” Zuko spat. “She took me home, came with me, is letting Druk come… Yue doesn’t even want that baby with you,” Zuko growled, and Lu Ten retracted in hurt, and Zuko regretted his words despite how Lu Ten had wounded him before. 

Zuko looked down in regret, but took Druk by the reins. “Come on, buddy, let’s go see Katara.”

* * *

Katara was making the last of her rounds with Yue and coming back towards the veranda when a glistening red beast crested the peaks of the palace rooftop. Her eyes went up, taking in the scaled underbelly of the dragon, then followed him as he whipped around behind her. 

She turned just in time to watch Druk land. His wings snapped taut, catching his weight and bowing the trees with the sharp gust of wind. His legs hit the ground, and the garden seemed to shudder, making Yue call out in protest and Katara stumble slightly. She found her balance as Zuko slid down from the dragon’s saddle. 

Her first step was tentative, though. Yue hung back, either used to the dragon or too afraid to approach. Without any support by her side, Katara gulped at Druk’s sheer size. Then, his head lifted and turned, his attention no longer on his master and focused entirely on Katara. 

She froze, trapped by piercing gold eyes, like prey in a snare. 

“Zuko?” Katara called out uncertainly, but her husband didn’t rush to her rescue. Either he didn’t care, or he knew— She swallowed, making herself recall what he’d said about the dragon’s demeanor: gentle and sweet. 

It was almost unfathomable, looking at Druk now. He had horns adorning his head, jutting teeth, sharp claws, and fire in his eyes, but Katara’s father swore she was made up of fire, too. 

Katara smiled, squinting at the dragon, then reached a hand out for him to sniff. 

“Druk…” This time she was more confident, even when the dragon tilted his head, even when he moved towards her, thunderous steps shaking the flowers, and blew hot air over her. 

He pressed his snout to her palm, and if dragons could smile back, Katara swore he did. Before she could react, Druk had licked her, from top to bottom, and she looked down at her slobbered form, laughing. 

“I- I think he likes me.” 

* * *

Zuko watched carefully as Druk interacted with Katara. They both seemed apprehensive of the other, scrutinizing each other with scrupulousness. Zuko watched his dragon tilt his head and Katara looked intimidated. He was an enormous dragon. Zuko smirked knowingly, refusing to aid Katara. He knew Druk wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

Finally, Druk deemed Katara worthy and licked her happily. Zuko laughed brightly, turning back to his cousin with a smile before remembering their argument, and Zuko turned back around melancholily. He went over to Katara then, putting an arm around her shoulder and patting Druk’s head. 

“There, see! He’s friendly as can be!” Zuko exclaimed. “He does like you. Give it by the time we’re home and he’ll love you– guard you with his life,” Zuko urged, squeezing her side. “He’s just a big teddy bear!”

* * *

“He better guard me with his life. From _you,”_ Katara teased, poking Zuko in the ribs. “You were going to let me get eaten! You were right there and Druk was staring me down like his next meal! _Zuko!”_  

Her husband was laughing, loud and joyously, with his head tilted back. Katara poked him again. “Do you want rid of me so badly?” she asked, but she was smiling now, and giggling like a lovestruck school girl.

As she swiped tears from the corners of her eyes, Katara looked away from Zuko and spotted Yue, who was watching the exchange with a slight smile. 

“Druk would never hurt anyone who has Zuko’s favor,” she said, approaching the couple. “I’ll admit, he’s intimidating to look at, but Druk is a teddy bear. If you let him, he’d sleep with you.” 

* * *

“From _me_?” Zuko feigned shock through hearty laughter. “Druk would never! He would never _consume_ a human,” Zuko bantered. “And, he’d never attack without provocation,” Zuko clarified with a proud smirk as he pet the dragon, and kissed the top of his head. “That’s right, who’s a good dragon?” Zuko cooed at him, scratching behind his ear.

“See, Katara, you should listen to your old friend,” Zuko insisted. “Before you know it, we’ll have to expand our bedroom to Make room for Druk,” Zuko stated with a toothy grin.

“Well, when Zuko first took in the dragon, he was a tiny baby, Druk, not Zuko,” teased Iroh, “And, the dragon slept beside him in bed—now, however, not so practical,” Iroh added, smirking.

“See, Katara, he’s completely domesticated,” Zuko boasted. “A _perfect_ addition to our family.”

* * *

“He is,” she agreed, taking a seat beside him and Lu Ten in the shade of the veranda. “He’ll be great. I just hope the stables being built for him are large enough. If anything, he can fit in the palace’s ballroom, but I doubt my father will approve plans for that.”

She laughed and shook her head, still in slight disbelief over Druk and Druk’s gentleness, despite his size. The dragon had curled up in the in the grass, with his snout resting on the patio. He was close enough that Zuko could dangle his hand and rub the dragon’s nose, which he did, absentmindedly. 

Katara smiled to herself, happy to see them reunited, and picked up her forgotten tea. She refroze the melting cubes of ice with a twist of her hand. 

“Oh!” Iroh looked at her, both astonished and excited. “My nephew told me you’re a waterbender… in all the catching up, I nearly forgot. I- I’ve never met a waterbender.” 

“Really?” 

“Well, I’ve met benders on the battlefield, of course, but in a friendly environment… never.” Iroh gave her an apologetic look, then went on. “I’ve studied your principles, however. Lu Ten and Zuko have both learned to redirect lightning based on an adaptation of waterbending.” 

Katara glanced at her husband, “That’s fascinating. How does it work?” 

“You absorb the energy,” Lu Ten answered, smirking proudly, “and bring it down through your stomach, which is the source of our chi, and then release it. The lightning leaves your body for the sky… or some other target.” 

“That’s very inventive,” Katara complimented, turning back to Iroh. “I learned how to pull water from the air, out of plants, and under the moon, I can bend the water in your blood. Though, unless my life is in immediate danger, I reserve that talent for healing purposes _only_ … I’ve saved a number of heart attack sufferers with it.” 

Iroh’s eyes widened, but with pure excitement. “That’s amazing. Your element is so powerful. Would you care to give us a demonstration?” 

“Of bloodbending?” Katara shook her head. “I’m not—” 

“No, no, my dear, you misunderstand me. I simply want to watch you bend. I think we’d all like to see it: a master of something other than fire.” 

“I’d love _to duel_ a master of something other than fire,” Lu Ten boasted, standing up and stretching his arms in a display of bravado. “What do you think, Zuko?” He clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “Can I handle her?”  

* * *

Zuko’s eyes widened at the prospect of bloodbending. It sounded terrifying in the wrong hands, threatening to any enemies, and incredulous in the medical field. He knew in firebending there could be healing properties, but nothing akin to that– nothing as _intense_ as bloodbending. 

Zuko smiled at Katara proudly, however, as he stroked his dragon absentmindedly. His expression shifted to surprise when Lu Ten wanted to duel Katara. He laughed, shaking his head as Lu Ten clapped his shoulder, the argument all but forgotten. “She’ll kick your ass, Lu Ten,” Zuko said teasingly, but matter-of-factly as well. 

“I mean, I’d love to watch her kick your ass if that’s what your asking,” Zuko retorted, “But, the fact still remains that my wife can, and if you so please, _will_ kick your ass.”

* * *

“It’s fine,” Katara protested, putting her glass down. “I don’t have to kick anyone’s ass. I can just bend peacefully—” 

“What are you chicken?” 

Lu Ten laughed cockily and shed his outer garments. He tied his hair up into a knot on top of his hand and pranced into the grass, still stretching, then throwing fistfuls of flame at imaginary targets. 

Katara watched the yellow and orange tongues lick at the air, her eyes pulling to the Crown Prince when he egged her on, again. 

“Come on, Southerner.” He wagged his fingers, trying to coax Katara from her seat. “it’s either you, or you’ll get to watch me beat up on Zuko’s ass,” Lu Ten winked at his cousin, “just like when we were little kids.” 

Katara looked at Zuko. “I don’t want—” She was hoping he’d have something to say to save her, but he was laughing at Lu Ten’s ridiculous jibes, and then Iroh was encouraging her, too.

She sighed and accepted, joining Lu Ten in the open yard. 

For a moment, they danced around each other, neither attacking. Katara sized him up, tried to guess at his weaknesses, but all she remembered was Zuko telling her that Lu Ten was a talented firebender, like himself— and Katara hadn’t sparred Zuko, yet. 

She moved to wipe sweat from her brow. Lu Ten finally pounced. Fire flicked from his fingertips, explosive and quick, fueled by the midday sun. Katara sidestepped it, turned her back on Lu Ten, then whipped around with a torrent of water drawn up from the grass. Despite his surprise, Lu Ten deflected. The water fizzled against fire, and his counterattack followed. 

They went on like this for a while, evenly matched, leaving charred patches of grass and dead plants. Katara had him on the run at points, trapped in ice, on his back from a wall of water; but just as quick, Lu Ten would spring up, break free, send fire in her direction that had Katara fighting not to get burned. 

_She didn’t want to be burned…_

Katara knew what it felt like; she’d experienced it countless times. It was half the reason she’d never dueled Zuko, never dueled another firebender since the war, not even in the icy tundra of her land. And every time a burst of flames licked at her, she scurried back, countering with massives attacks for a second of reprieve from the heat. 

She almost called a stalemate. She wanted to. The sun was beating down on her; she’d used up most of the plant life for her water source. What she had left was in the air, and the humidity was burning off quickly in the hottest part of the day. 

Katara caught a blast in a shield of ice. It hissed and cracked; Lu Ten was already winding up another attack. 

“Hey. _Wait!_ I’m—” 

There wasn’t enough water left to stop the assault he launched. Katara tried, but she stumbled back, panting, and Lu Ten hollered with his near victory. He was going to finish it, though. She could see it in his eyes. He kicked and she tried to gather what she could from the air, but there wasn’t enough time. 

The fire exploded through her defense. Katara yelped, but the pain in her hands didn’t last— she was sent flying back. She slammed into a tree and slumped to the ground. 

* * *

Everyone was on the edge of their seats. One moment, it looked like Lu Ten had things, and Yue would sit smirking proudly, but then the next, Katara was back on the winning end, and Zuko was cheering her name. Zuko was standing up, and then sitting back down, and gasping every other moment. It was impossible to tell who’d win. They seemed to be an even match, which made for an entertaining brawl. 

Eventually, things waned– Lu Ten cracked through Katara’s barrier of ice, and she cried out to cease. Zuko stood then, not in excitement but concern. He wanted to call to his cousin to knock it off, when she stumbled back and he yelled in excitement. “Hey!” Zuko shouted, going to storm over to the makeshift arena. He didn’t know why Lu Ten kept at it– they could call it there, he won. “Lu Ten!” Zuko shouted, angry, but then he sent a final blow, sending his wife flinging backward, hitting a tree, causing leaves to fall as Katara collapsed at the ground. 

“Katara!” cried Zuko, running to her side. “Shit,” cursed Zuko, pulling her up into his arm so her head was cradled in the back of his elbow, and propped up, and he held her. “Kat?” Zuko said, “Hey? Are you okay?” Zuko asked gently as he swallowed thickly. Yue was over soon too, looking worried. She glanced between her husband crossly, then back to her friend in concern. Iroh was over shouting at Lu Ten, but Zuko could hardly pay attention. He was worried about Katara.

Zuko scooped her up bridal style, and brought her inside as Yue followed. Zuko rushed her through the halls to the infirmary where the physician looked at him in surprise. Zuko placed her on the bed, and turned to the physician as Yue stood by her and took her hand. 

“She was sparring with Lu Ten, and he went too far because he’s a fucking idiot,” Zuko snapped, not meaning to take it out on the poor physician, but he was fuming. The physician nodded assuredly and went to work checking all of Katara’s vitals and the wounds. Zuko took a seat at her side, and took her other hand until his uncle and Lu Ten walked in, and Zuko scowled. 

He shot up from his seat, storming over to his cousin, and shoving his chest, making him hit the wall. Lu Ten raised his hands in defense and surrender. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” Zuko shouted. “I have half a mind to go out there and finish the job! Why would you do that? What the fuck? What possessed you to do that after she fell down? It was just friendly sparring, Lu Ten. What the fuck? What the fuck!” 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t want to hurt her, Zuko! You know I would never try to hurt her! I got carried away– I didn’t realize! Zuko, I’m sorry!” Lu Ten cried, visibly and genuinely sorry and distraught. 

“Don’t fucking tell me! Tell Katara!”

* * *

 

 

“My head…” Katara complained as she came around, her ears ringing. The shouting and scuffling between Zuko and Lu Ten grated painfully against her senses.

She blinked, and some strange room came into focus, complete with too bright lights and the medicinal smell of an infirmity. Katara struggled up to her elbows, then sat up all the way, her feet swinging off the bed. She couldn’t quite remember what’d happened, but her skull throbbed with her heartbeat.

Zuko had noticed her by then, coming over concerned and worried, asking a dozen questions. Katara swat at his hand, slipping from the bed angrily. She didn’t answer him, and instead, cursed, “ _Fuck,_ my head.”

“Katara, please,” Lu Ten pushed around his cousin, vying for her dizzied attention. “Katara, I’m sorry. I’m competitive, I got carried away and I—”

_“What?_ I’m fine.” She looked at him, not quite comprehending. The ache behind her eyes told her something had happened though, and Katara briefly remembered fire and falling. She reached up, feeling the back of her head and coming away with blood on her fingers.

“Ugh… _ouch.”_

Lu Ten was apologizing again, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t. Katara–”

“It’s fine. I said I’m fine.” She shook him off, wiping her bloody fingers down the front of her clothes. All she needed was water, which she meant to find in a washroom Katara shoved past him and Zuko, scowling as she left the infirmary. 

“Trust me. It’s not a big deal. I’ve been through _a lot worse.”_

* * *

She insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but her head was throbbing, and she was in an awfully-sour mood. The physician tried to urge her to lie down and rest a bit more while they got her some herbs for her pain, some food, and a drink of water. But Katara, ever the stubborn one, couldn’t care less, and stormed off in irritation over everyone’s fussing. 

Zuko glared at Lu Ten as soon as Katara left the room. He harshly shoved his cousin again, hitting him against the wall, and Iroh had to break them up. “Stop it! Cool your temper, Zuko! It was an accident! Lu Ten has apologized!” Iroh chastised him. 

“He could’ve set Katara on fire and you’d still side with _your son_ ,” Zuko hissed in vexation, and Iroh’s face fell in hurt. 

“Zuko, that is not true! It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous! Lu Ten needs to learn to better control his bending, and both of you, your tempers!” Iroh snapped. “Now, you both ought to leave Katara be! She knows herself best, now let her alone. She’ll come here when she’s ready. Have some faith in her.”

Zuko let out a shaky breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, but not ready to apologize to his cousin. Growing up he was jealous of Azula, but in his adolescence, he was seething with envy of Lu Ten. That evidently had not worn off, and more than anything, he was furious that he’d hurt Katara so recklessly. 

Zuko brushed past Lu Ten harshly before storming off to the kitchen, where he saw Katara sitting with a cup of herbal tea. He gave her a soft smile that didn’t reach his amber eyes. “Hey,” he muttered, leaning against the counter, then sighing. “Are you… are you okay? That looked… that looked like it  hurt.”

* * *

Katara looked up from her teacup and smiled. She shifted so Zuko had room to stand next to her and a servant began preparing a drink for him, too. Katara watched the young man work for a moment before putting her hand over Zuko’s and reassuring him.

“It was just a bump,” she said, gesturing to the back of her head. “It’s all healed up, and any bruises left on my back will heal tonight in my bath. The only thing you should worry about is a concussion.” Katara glanced sideways, reading him.

She squeezed his fingers when she noticed his downturned mouth and furrowed brows. “Zuko, honestly, I’m okay. You don’t need to be upset with Lu Ten, and if you are, you can let it go, love.”

Katara turned to him all the way then, lifting her hand to his chin. As gently as she could, Katara made Zuko look at her, though his eyes flicked around, avoiding hers. Regardless, she could see the turbulence in them, and Katara cupped his cheek, kissing him tenderly.

“Zuko…” she said when she pulled back, “you seem more upset than I am… I don’t know what to tell you, but I’ve faced worse than a head laceration… I don’t know if that even helps you,” she murmured. “Zuko, please. What’s wrong?”

* * *

Zuko swallowed thickly as he leaned on the counter beside her. He put his hand over her free one and gripping it as she spoke. “I– I know you’re okay… but it doesn’t– of course it matters, that’s the most important, it matters most– that’s not the point,” Zuko clarified. “My cousin hurt you… he shouldn’t have gone that far. That was over the top for a friendly sparring session, and it’s… it’s not about me thinking anyone’s weak. I’d be upset if you’d done this to him, too. There’s no reason to get people hurt in friendly matches. He could see you were down. Why did he do that?” Zuko vented in frustration. 

“I just– I got… I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered. “I was scared… when I saw you hit that tree, and you weren’t waking up– I was terrified,” Zuko admitted quietly. “I’m a bit of a worrywart, admittedly,” Zuko confessed, “I’m sure you’re shocked,” he teased, running his hand down his face in stress. “I just– I worry, I’m sorry… and I overreact because I worry, and… I just– I don’t want to see you hurt. That’s the last thing I want, and I know that it could have been prevented if my cousin wasn’t such a… _royal pain in the ass_ ,” jested Zuko with a small smile, then releasing a deep, shaky sigh. “So… I’m sorry if I was, or I am, or I do get to also be a royal pain in the ass… I don’t mean to, and I guess you can just slap me back into reality,” he teased.

“What’s important is that you’re _okay_ ,” he told her. “But, if you did hurt your head, and it’s a concussion, you should take it easy. I hope that doesn’t make me sound too crazy,” he joked. “That’s all I ask… please?”

* * *

“I can lie down if you want,” Katara said, picking up her cup of tea. She put her back on the counter, leaning so she could still see his face. “Love, I’ll lie down… in the meantime, tell your cousin I’m fine and that it’s my fault.” 

She caught his surprised look and went on, “I shouldn’t have agreed at all, not to a fight with no water source, and not when I was already feeling faint and overheated from the temperature.” 

“I just… I didn’t want to disappoint him or your uncle,” Katara shrugged, turning her gaze down to her cup of tea. “Iroh seemed so excited by the prospect. I didn’t really know how to refuse him, so … just make sure they know I’m not upset. Accident’s happen.” 

Katara slurped down what was left in her teacup, then put it aside. “I’ll go to bed, though.” She brushed his hand as she went to leave. “Send someone to wake me every couple of hours… if it is a concussion, I need to be monitored.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her with a deep frown, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault, and I will say no such thing,” refused Zuko. “Lu Ten should not have gone so far. He should respect boundaries. We aren’t at war,” Zuko argued, shaking his head while exhaling in stress.

He grabbed her hand as she turned to go, “Nonsense, I’ll come to bed with you and look over you,” Zuko insisted. “I’ll wake you every couple of hours. I don’t mind… unless you’d rather rest on your own,” Zuko Asked.

* * *

Katara shook her head and headed for the kitchen doors. “You don’t need to, Zuko. It’s the middle of the day,” she said, smirking slightly. “People will talk about _little heirs_ if you disappear, too.” 

“Go,” she urged, smiling back over her shoulder. “Wake me before dinner or something. I can make Lu Ten feel guilty over Fire Nation food. But, right now, you need to spend time with the people you love.”

* * *

Zuko shrugged with a smirk, “Well, I see nothing so crude about it, we are married,” retorted Zuko teasingly, but he nodded at her in submission. “Rest well, send for me if you need anything- anything at all,” urged Zuko.

“I’ll wake you, don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you miss out on dinner. I know you’d hate that,” he teased her. Though when she bid him off, Zuko caught her last line. He frowned, and glanced aside, “Then I’m not sure it would matter where I stayed,” whispered Zuko, blushing. “Sleep- Sleep well, Katara.”


	15. Chapter 15

The sun was setting when Zuko woke Katara for dinner. She freshened up quickly, chose a red, silk dress to wear out, then walked arm-in-arm with Zuko from the palace to a nearby restaurant. She looked up, reading the pretty, painted sign aloud: 

“The Fire Lily… I like it.” 

“Thank you, my Lady,” the host greeted them at the door, bowing, “and might I say, you both look lovely this evening. Princess Katara, it’s a pleasure to welcome you. Prince Zuko, welcome home.” The man shook both their hands, then led them to a secluded corner of the restaurant where Iroh was already seated with Lu Ten and Yue. 

The Fire Lord stood when he saw them, a smile overtaking his face. “Prince Zuko and Katara… are you feeling better, Katara? No harm done, I hope?” 

“Oh, yes, I’m alright,” she said, accepting a glass of wine as she sat. “It’s been years since I’ve fought a firebender. I should’ve known better than to do it without a proper water source.” 

Katara smirked across the table, almost challenging Lu Ten to spar her on the beach or the South, even. “That was the only reason you stood a chance against me.” 

Lu Ten scoffed, “Really? Shall we go again?” 

“Why not? After dinner? I’ll pick the location this time and you can… well, I wish you luck, Prince.” Katara tipped her wine to him, and Lu Ten laughed.

“Somebody’s confident,” he remarked, nudging Zuko then. “Maybe, after you’re finished with me, you can duel him. He’s a better bender than I am, having learned from dragons and all that.”

Katara shrugged nonchalantly, “Fine, winner fights Zuko… if Zuko’s up for it? It would be fun, love, and it’d do me some good to get back into fighting form.” 

* * *

Zuko had almost forgotten how much he liked this restaurant. He, his sister, and his mother used to go out here before everything hit the fan. It was a nice place with great food, and friendly staff. Zuko was excited to take Katara there, and she looked breathtaking, which he didn’t shy from informing her. The walk there was short and pleasant. The weather in the evenings in the Fire Nation was perfect. 

They sat together at the table, across from Lu Ten and Yue, and his uncle sat on the other side of him. Zuko looked over the menu, and tried to coax Katara into trying the roasted turtle duck with a side of fire flakes. But, before he could do so much as point at the item on the menu, Lu Ten was already hogging the conversation. Zuko huffed, leaning into his hand. 

He was challenging Katara to yet another sparring session, and Zuko couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Surprisingly, his wife was all for the challenge, and the two of them were roping him into it now. Zuko glared at his cousin, offering a sharp retort, “So long as if you get so rarely lucky again that you know when to stop…” 

But, Katara seemed to want him in on it too, and Zuko looked at her with surprise and a tinge of dread, which he quickly tried to hide. “Fine,” he succumbed with a mumble. “Winner gets to fight me,” he resigned. “At least I know when to stop,” he stated, “But, I haven’t sparred in a long time. It’s more challenging to bend in the cold with such little sunlight, especially. I’m sure Katara will destroy me, and you, as much as I hate to admit it, will too, Lu Ten, but why not– as long as I don’t get slammed against a tree,” he agreed.

“But, none of us will be good at much of anything if we don’t eat, so why don’t we do what we came here for first of all,” Zuko said, setting down his menu and finally pointing out to Katara that roasted turtle duck.

* * *

“I’ll eat whatever you want,” she muttered, waving away the menu. None of it sounded appetizing, and certainly not a roasted version of the ducklings in the palace’s pounds, but Katara kept it to herself.

She poked him instead, smiling playfully, “You need to lighten up a bit, Zuko. It’s just fun, and really… I’m not upset with Lu Ten, I never was. I can heal almost any injury.”

“Which is good news—” Katara smirked at the Crown Prince. “—for you, considering I’ll be pummeling you into the sand. Both of you, actually. I’m pummeling both of you, and I bet I could do it at the _same time.”_  

* * *

Zuko slumped in his seat after her dismissal, and placed an order for her of something on the less spicy side. After the waiter scampered off, Katara’s competitive edge showed itself again. She was far more confident than before, and the water must’ve been everything. She was now so sure, she wanted to fight them both at the same time. Zuko opened his mouth to object, but Lu Ten interjected hastily. 

“Both of us? Aw, come on. Didn’t you get injured enough for one day?” taunted Lu Ten, and Zuko sighed. “But, if you’re so sure, we’ll be happy to take you on. Won’t we, Zuko?”

“I guess so!” Zuko replied with a toss of his hand, leaning into his forehead. 

Iroh and Yue were left silent, chewing on the bread the waiter set out– and soon after, everyone’s meals came in. The mood shifted, and everyone ate their dinner with casual conversation. When the appetizers came through, then the entrees, and finally the desserts, everyone all but inhaled the food– starving. After, Yue and Iroh were sipping on tea, and Lu Ten was eager to get the show on the road. He cracked his knuckles, and smirked at Katara. 

“All right, Katara– and my dear partner and kin, Zuko– let’s do this,” Lu Ten stated, standing up and wiping his sleeve. “The River Hua is right beside the restaurant, and there’s a huge field. The perfect place for you to eat our dust.”

* * *

“Careful,” Katara quipped, following Lu Ten from the restaurant. She grabbed Zuko’s hand, tugging him along with a smirk. “You’ll both end up in the middle of the river if you don’t watch your backs.” 

She smiled, meandering through a few residential streets until they came to the river’s sloped embankment. The water moved lazily, like a silver ribbon under the nearly full moon. Katara glanced up at it, then caught Iroh’s eye. 

“I’d wish you good luck,” he said, winking, “but I feel it’s the men who will need it. Be gentle with them.” Iroh chuckled and linked his arm through Yue’s, meaning to take her up the embankment to watch. He called back as he went, “Actually… don’t. Lu Ten could stand to be taken down a few notches.” 

Katara laughed, “Will do… and I’m sorry in advance if you have to fish out two drowned rats.” 

* * *

Zuko smirked as they walked towards the river, suddenly feeling more confident now that he was out in his own domain. The air was warm and comfortable, but the sun was down. He was always a far better bender with support from the sun, and he knew– he rose with the sun; she rose with the moon. Zuko knew that beside the river and under the moonlight then, they were both fucked. Lu Ten still felt cocky from last time, but Zuko knew better from wedding the waterbending master princess and living among her people for so long. He decided to let his cousin live in ignorant bliss, and that he would just have fun sparring her for the first time before she inevitably tossed him in the river beside his cousin. 

“Oh, so we’re rats now?” retorted Zuko teasingly, smirking. “I guess we’ll just have to defend our reputations!” he declared, cracking his knuckles, mostly for a show of what was faux bravado. Zuko glanced at his uncle, smiling at him unsurely, but Iroh just winked playfully, and took a seat with a cup of tea he took with him from the restaurant. 

Zuko shed his robes, tossing them aside with Lu Ten’s before taking a deep, steadying breath. “All right, Kat, ladies first.”

* * *

“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” Katara remarked, watching Zuko’s clothes flutter into a pile. Her eyes flicked from it to him, moving over his bare torso. “I thought, you know, when it was just Lu Ten, that mobility was the goal, but I think you’re just trying to cause a distraction.” 

She pursed her lips, then winked, and started pulling the sashes on her dress apart, leaving the silk in the sand and nothing but her thin bindings against her skin. Even with the distance between them, the color on Zuko’s cheeks was easy to see, and Lu Ten whistled. 

“Two can play that game,” Katara teased, shifting into a bending stance with her gaze on her husband. “But, I honestly thought you’d defend my honor,” she pointed out, eyeing Zuko’s cousin. “Are you going to let him ogle me like that?” 

Lu Ten put on an innocent act almost immediately, which made Katara laugh. “I suppose I’ll have to defend my honor—” She drew water up from the river as Lu Ten kicked fire, halting the flames and sending ice towards him. “—all by myself.” 

The Crown Prince deflected Katara’s attack, then sent a volley of blasts across the sand. Katara whipped the water around her like a shield, her eyes on Lu Ten, her attention on the movements of Zuko. 

He came around from the side, forcing her further from the river. It was genius, she had to give him that, but Katara reacted quickly. The shield around her melted, went flying towards Zuko in a torrent, and she pulled water up from the sand, freezing Lu Ten’s feet. 

When he stumbled, catching himself on all fours, she froze his hands, too. It gave her enough time— Lu Ten was already melting the ice— Katara darted around him, ducking under attacks from Zuko. 

She reached the river as Lu Ten broke free. Zuko was chasing after her, too, trying to cut her off before she could dash into the water. They sent a combined blast towards her, but fueled by the river’s power and the moon, Katara whipped around in the shallows. A wave rose up, hissing against the fire. 

Katara let the water fall, leaving her up to ankles in the river, but soaked through from the spray of the wave. She caught her breath for a moment, watching as they sized her up, assessed her new position. Then, she coaxed the water up and around her, taking on the form of an octopus with a cocky smirk. 

“You’re in trouble now, boys…” 

* * *

Zuko had already mentally decided he would not be going all out, full force on his wife. However, now he was beginning to realize, it wouldn’t really matter if he had. She’d still be kicking his ass (and looking great while doing it). He was also wondering if she’d made the same conclusions about him. It didn’t feel like she was at all going easy on him, and if she were, then wow, he’d be awfully fucked if she was going full-force.

Zuko knew all the right angles, all the weak spots, and the best moves. He tried to execute them with precision, and his blows were something to behold, powerful and extravagant displays of fire. But, Katara was now standing in the river, and had a shield of water surrounding her. There were tentacles swarming around her like an octopus, and Zuko glanced at his cousin, and Lu Ten simply shrugged, and withheld a laugh. 

Zuko smirked, not ready to surrender. He used his fire bending to project himself to the other side of the river, and Lu Ten met him adjacently. They tried to distract her by separating themselves– but Katara turned to them, still smirking, showing that it was likely futile.

* * *

Zuko was out of her reach on the other side of the river, but Lu Ten wasn’t. And, Lu Ten was creating a problem for her. Volley after volley of flames kept Katara on the defense, her attention pulled away from Zuko, her back exposed to him. She had to act quickly.

Katara lifted herself up above the river with a cyclone, out Lu Ten’s range. He watched her ascend, then when she came crashing down, the force of the water tossed him up the bank. He landed with a thud, and Katara encased all but his face in a layer of ice so thick it’d take an hour for him to break free. 

She turned back to Zuko, riding the river across to his chosen bank. He threw a few blasts at her, but it was nothing she couldn’t manage. It was almost boring, and Katara growled. “I can tell you’re holding out on me, so why don’t I make this quick?” 

Katara skated around him, ice under her feet. When she found solid ground, the ice that’d been beneath her turned to water, and she pummelled Zuko back with as much force as she could muster. 

He landed in the in the river with a splash, and she marched down the embankment towards him, using the river’s power to trap him on his back in the shallows. 

He was at her mercy, and Katara let go of her grasp on the water. She’d won, it was clear. Still, annoyance leeched into her victory. Was he holding back because he didn’t trust her to be safe? Did he think she’d hurt him if the fight was more evenly matched? Or did he think her challenge was beneath him?

“There’s no honor in showing mercy, Zuko.” Katara turned on her heel and stomped out of the river. “Next time, don’t practice such restraint.”   

* * *

Zuko put up the last of the fight, watching with a wince as Katara lunged his cousin into the river. He threw bits of fire her way, catching his breath, but once she remarked at him, he knew he was going to meet the same unpleasant fate as his cousin. Zuko grunted as a blast of water sent him whirling back and into the river. 

He splashed up, seeing Lu Ten drying off on the shores. After a few bouts of coughed up water, Zuko was laughing as he climbed tiredly out to the bank. He flipped his wet, dripping bangs from his face with a smirk, ready to concede to the victor, but when he glanced at Katara, she looked less-than-amused. 

She was pissed he hadn’t gone all out. Zuko sighed, “Kat,” Zuko began, “Firebending is dangerous– there’s no way to gently hit your opponent with flames. You can hit me with water, and I’m fine if you just don’t hit me with torrential force. Fire needs to be contained more or people can get hurt,” Zuko stated. “I won’t let down my restraint when I’m having a playful match with people I care about– or anyone who isn’t an adversary, for that matter,” Zuko said firmly. “I’m sorry, but you can throw me in the river– I can’t throw you into a pile of flames, Kat. Sure, waterbending can be deadly, but it’s easier to contain and restrain. Firebending is as containable as a _wildfire_.”

* * *

“I don’t need a lesson about the dangers of fire!” Katara snapped, whirling around and facing Zuko on the shore. “I grew up learning those lessons, time and time again! Fire burns me. Fire hurts me. Fire murders my family and rapes me—”

She cut off, watching shock spread all over his face. She had the attention of his family, too. The stunned silence weighed on them all like a blanket of snow, making the air thick and frigid. Katara swallowed, heat cropping up all over her skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, fighting tears as they sprang up. Katara turned away and snatched her clothes from the sand, then she darted up the bank to the street. “I’ll see you at the palace.” 

* * *

Zuko was taken entirely aback by her declaration. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes opened wide. He was stunned silent. He was at a loss of what to say. Zuko didn’t want to misspeak and hurt her, or push her with such an intimate confession she’d shouted to them all. When she ran to the street, Zuko scanned his family’s faces to see shock and guilt on them. 

Zuko felt that too: shock, guilt, and sympathy. She probably didn’t want the last one. That was something he’d learned: she was as prideful as he was. Zuko felt more than they did, he ached hearing that. He ached knowing she was hurt, and he was furious knowing someone had hurt her, and that it was one of his. How did she not loathe him? How could she not despise him? How did she give him a chance? How the fuck was she _in love with him_?

Zuko blinked back tears he didn’t know pooled in his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. None of them had any words, not even Uncle Iroh, who was always full of infinite wisdom. Zuko sighed, and followed his wife up the path. She must’ve headed to the palace– and Zuko traced that likely walkway to their bedroom. Zuko rapped on the door where he heard sniffling and tears behind it. He leaned on it, his hand resting over the knob. 

“Kat… hey… can– can I come in? Please?”

* * *

“Yeah… yes, of course.” Katara swiped at her cheeks when she heard Zuko’s voice filter through the door. She sat up, fluffed the pillows she’d been lying on and Water Tribe tunic, and put on her calmest expression, which couldn’t be better than a  mockery of poise. “Come in, Zuko. It’s fine.” 

The door swung open slowly, and Katara shifted to the edge of the bed, sitting on her hands. Her toes brushed the floor and she looked down at them, pretending to study her brown moccasins. All she felt was shame, and it kept her from looking at Zuko until he was on his knees right in front of her. 

Katara shifted uncomfortably, looking away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that… in front of your family like that. I just— I don’t know.” She tugged a hand from beneath her thigh, chewed on her thumbnail. “I’m sorry, Zuko. Really… I need to apologize to your uncle and Lu Ten, too.” 

* * *

Zuko came in slowly, his face in a frown, but he gave her a gentle smile. He closed the door slowly and gently behind him. He came and sat beside her on the soft bed. He offered her his hand, turning it over on his lap in nothing more than an offering. “You have nothing to be sorry about… not at all, not even kicking my ass,” he teased her lightly. 

He looked over at her, his eyes serious but soft. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, Kat. You don’t need to apologize to my uncle, or me, or Lu Ten, especially him,” teased Zuko. “I couldn’t care less that you snapped at us, Kat… I’m worried about you,” he whispered. “And… I- I’m sorry… I’m sorry my people did something so… _sick_ to you,” he spoke with a thick swallow. “If I knew who it was I’d have him killed,” Zuko said, anger bleeding through his eyes as he stared forward with angry tears glazing over his vision. 

He pressed his fingertips to his eyes before regaining his composure. “I… I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. I know how awful that is, but I also know how awful it is feeling like you can’t talk about something awful, too,” he murmured. “So… if- if you do want to talk, know that I’ll always listen, even if that’s all you want. I– I’m here for you… that– that’s all I wanted to say… to make sure you knew,” Zuko tried to assure her in an offering similar to her hand. “And, I’ll stay here with you if you’d like, or if you want to be alone right now, I’ll go, too. But, if you want me… I- I’m here, and… I always will be, and I don’t mean because I have to per treaty legislation… I mean… _here_ … more– more than physically. I- I’m _here_.”

* * *

“I shouldn’t have been out there trying to kick your ass,” Katara snorted, rolling her eyes at the ceiling to dispell the moisture in them. “I think I hoped that… I don’t know… It was easy being here until Lu Ten knocked me into the tree.” 

“And, no—” She snagged Zuko’s wrist before he could go after his cousin. “I don’t need you to go chasing Lu Ten down, Zuko. Sometimes things just bring it back up, the war and everything that happened to me, to my tribe… It gets… dug up.”

Katara slipped her fingers between Zuko’s, letting a sigh past her lips. “I tried to tell myself on the way to dinner that it was just nerves. I put on a brave face, false bravado, convinced myself that fighting you and him would make me feel better… but it didn’t help, just like fighting and killing didn’t help back then.” 

She swallowed, her lips pressed together. It was harder than she thought, being surrounded by red and gold. With the sun down and the day over, the memories brought to the front of her mind, Katara couldn’t help but think that this palace and all its riches were built on blood. 

Even harder, was opening up, but Katara wondered if that would help more than killing ever had. She took a breath and found her voice.“People think that, because the war ended, everything just stopped, but… there were still battles.” 

“The Earth Kingdom was crawling with rouge Fire Nation squadrons and I was part of a task force there, meant to keep supply chains open and heal the wounded in the military encampments.” 

“It was a few weeks after my sixteenth birthday. There was a lunar eclipse.” She shivered involuntarily and brought a hand back up to her mouth. Katara plucked at her lip absently, then went on. “I didn’t know what an eclipse could do. I’d never experienced one. It only last eight minutes, but a group of firebenders ambushed us. The men were killed for being threats, the girls were taken for— You catch my drift.”

“I couldn’t break out until the next full moon,” Katara dropped her hand to her lap and studied her fingers. “Seventeen days…”

* * *

It was hard to even listen to her vaguely recount the tale. Zuko couldn’t imagine having lived through it. He looked at her in worry, and her eyes were full of tears. She looked shaken and nervous. He knew because he did the same things, fidgeting with his hands to hide how they shook, avoiding eye contact at all costs, breathing too fast or too slow. 

Zuko licked his own bottom lip and swallowed thickly. He didn’t want Katara to notice the glassy look in his eyes, or think that he pitied her. He didn’t. He just hurt for her. Zuko was also full of anger. He wanted to slaughter every man in that squadron like the brutish animals they were, but that was impossible. Zuko’s jaw jutted aside, and all he could do was pull her into an embrace, slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort, but he saw none, and  his hand went on her upper back, trying to offer her some comfort. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko choked out, “That’s not enough… that’s not anything,” he admitted, “But… I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could say something better… that mattered…” he said quietly. “I… I do know that you’re brave, and you’re strong, and I don’t think I’ve ever admired a person so much in my life,” he whispered, hugging her closer. “I’d kill them all myself if I had the chance.”

* * *

“It’s okay, Zuko. It was a long time ago.” Katara nuzzled her head under Zuko’s chin and wrapped her arms around him. She was content there, safe. She’d snapped before, maybe even made him think she blamed him for it all; Katara wanted him to know she didn’t. 

She kissed his neck softly, then lifted her head, smiling. “I’ve healed from most of it,” she murmured. “I’m alright. The war’s easy to forget. I have my dad and my home and things that keep me busy…” Katara tucked Zuko’s hair behind his ear and pecked his nose. 

“And, I have you,” she said, shyly, “which I’m so thankful for. You’ve… done a lot for me, Zuko, more than I could ever tell you. I love you. That never changes.” 

* * *

Zuko held her close when she tucked herself under his chin, stroking her back. He looked at her when she pulled back, tucking his hair behind his ear, and he returned his gentle smile. It dawned on him then, just looking at her amidst the vulnerable moment of intimacy, while she told him that she loved him, that he may love her back. 

Zuko didn’t want to say it unless he was sure, but any time he was around her, his heart would flutter, he felt more alight, he was in such a better mood. She was incredible, too. She was kind, funny, brave, intelligent, strong, a great leader, generous, thoughtful, and he loved being around her more than anyone else. Despite the pressures his position put him in, alone in the tundra town, with stakes higher than some the tallest mountains there, she somehow made him feel safer than he ever had. He felt more free to behave as himself than with anyone. He didn’t think he’d ever had a dearer or closer friend, in a matter of mere months. He couldn’t imagine what the years would bring, then. 

He’d do anything for her, too. He realized at the anger he felt today when his own beloved cousin had mistakenly harmed her, and then when he’d heard the atrocities committed against her by his own people. But, ever wiser, she was above blaming them all. She still came here, to the palace of fire that was the heart, or lack thereof of all her people’s past suffering. She was, too, wise beyond her years. When she was at meetings, or away with her father, or friends, he daydreamed about her, but she’d made it so he was comfortable on his own to mill about the palace, giving him his own room just to paint, and keep his artwork. He’d never painted so much either, no one had ever encouraged him so much. 

Zuko didn’t want to speak so soon, but he knew, at the very least, he was on the edge, and he would soon fall deep, running with a head start over a sheet of ice that would soon be too weak to support him, and he’d fall in and under, taking his breath away. “Katara–” Zuko began, but he lowered his defenses, then shaking his head, offering her a warm smile. “You’ve done everything for me… I couldn’t ask for a better wife. I– I was so angry my uncle sent me, but now… I’m doing better than I ever was, and a lot of that- most of that- has to do with _you_.”


	16. Chapter 16

Katara stayed tucked in Zuko’s embrace for a moment, quiet and happy. His words warmed her, calming the darker parts of her soul that chafed when she was still for too long. Finally, she disturbed the peace. 

Her mind had wandered to another topic with the talk of war, and she wanted to address it before she forgot again. “I got a letter from Cheif Arnook,” Katara announced. “Several, actually, just before we left.” 

“I was right: he didn’t know what was happening in the colonies, but he’s investigated your reports and has promised that the perpetrators will be brought to justice. As for that justice…” Katara licked her lips, nervous now. She didn’t know how Zuko would react to the arrangements she’d made. 

“Chief Arnook requested that the Fire Nation make the decision. He believes it’s your right, since your lands were damaged and your people were hurt,” Katara explained. “Essentially, what it means is that the Fire Nation will need someone to go between itself and the North… I recommended you.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her softly when she pulled away until she changed to more serious matters. He tilted his head in curiosity, squeezing her hands. He squeezed them tighter when she mentioned Chief Arnook– he knew it had to be news about the invasion in the colonies. When Katara announced that the Chief agreed there should be justice, Zuko exhaled in relief, a small smile taking over his lips. 

But, then she seemed wary. “Me…?” Zuko whispered in shock, looking away, but a smile crept over his lips. “You– You recommended me? Why me? I- I mean… I’m honored, Katara… you trust _me_ with that? I– I’ve wanted nothing more than to be able to be involved _some way_ in trying to improve things since the war,” Zuko explained, an askew grin overcoming his features. “Like an ambassador? Between the North and the Fire Nation?” he asked for clarity, feeling excited, but also nervous for his new role. 

“But, Katara… I- I don’t know what to do with them… I… we can’t punish them the way the law would handle it if it were men of our own. Anything done in the Fire Nation’s name will be scrutinized and more spotlit. They… they killed so many men, and raped so many women, and looted their homes… kidnapped children… they’ve been horrid,” Zuko stated, swallowing thickly. If they were Fire Nation, they’d be executed after being put on trial. “But, if we execute them, even after a trial… there’d be blame on the Fire Nation,” Zuko explained, seeking advice from her. He trusted her. She had a level head on her shoulders. 

“Uncle will have to make the final call, too– but there should be an international council. There should be an international court– for murky things such as this, not to make nations lose sovereignty, but what are we to do with this mess?”

* * *

Katara pursed her lips and settled her chin in her hand. Her brows furrowed as she listened, and it all made sense. Justice in her tribe and her sister tribe was different— criminals were punished by the afflicted, with their penance only required to fit the crime. 

If the Fire Nation were to mimic this, it’d only be seen as more bloodshed, despite the soldiers having rained havoc on the colonies for so long. She perked up when he mentioned an international court, however. 

“You should present that,” Katara said, “at the Summit. Plan out how you’d assemble it, where it’d be held, who would be a part of the council. It’s a great idea, Zuko. It’d solve so many problems, especially when dealing with situations like this.” 

She smiled, excited now. “We could even have a mock court during the Summit, with the heads of state weighing in on what should happen to these rogue soldiers. You could lead it, the others could vote. Avatar Aang could preside over it all, make sure everyone is heard equally… it’s fantastic, Zuko.” 

* * *

Zuko sat there with his face displaying his discontent with the present dilemma he and his uncle now faced. Katara shifted his thoughts when she praised his idea. He turned to her with a smile. “You think so?” he asked excitedly. “Alright, I will!” Zuko stated, feeling more confident then. 

“It could be held in a former colony– with interests that are multinational,” Zuko spitballed. “And, there can be trusted representatives nominated from each nation to assemble there, perhaps three from each country, and as you said, Avatar Aang as the overseer to ensure everything is fair,” Zuko agreed, feeling excited to present his idea to the Summit at his wife’s encouragement. 

“I’ll have to map it out better, and I’ll ask your advice, too,” Zuko assured her with a smile. “I think it would be good too. It would be a good way to settle disputes too, without having things escalate to wars or battles. There can be negotiations held there as well, or something. I hope it can work out.”

* * *

“It’ll work out wonderfully, Zuko, since you’ll be introducing it. I have nothing but the utmost faith in you,” Katara said, pecking his cheek. She slipped out of Zuko’s grasp and checked her face in the mirror. 

“I should really go apologize, don’t you think?” Katara turned from the vanity to face her husband. “I was… completely out of line. They didn’t have a clue and I literally screamed about my sob story in front of them.” 

She rolled her eyes at the ceiling, huffing. “Spirits, I’m so embarrassed. I probably shouldn’t be allowed back into the country. Everyone’s going to worry about what kind of emotional barbarian you married.” 

* * *

Zuko walked over to her with a frown, taking her wrists in his hands. “Kat, they were worried about you,” Zuko said lowly, his gaze meeting hers. He shook his head. “You shouldn’t apologize. You don’t have to,” urged Zuko, following her gaze as she tried to avert his. 

He gently took her chin by his hand to look at her. “Hey,” murmured Zuko. “Please don’t worry,” Zuko implored. “My uncle and cousin were concerned, not angry, or upset, or anything like that. You don’t even owe them an explanation, really,” Zuko uttered. “They already think you’re lovely. Everyone can tell that I’m the lucky one,” teased Zuko with a smile. 

“Why don’t you come down and spend some time with Yue? Uncle is making some tea as we speak, and I’m sure she’d love your company,” Zuko offered.

* * *

“Well… if you think your uncle will still enjoy my presence…” Katara shrugged nervously, then forced a smile. Her stomach was in knots, but she let Zuko lead her to the parlor, where Iroh had tea and Lu Ten tried to coax amiable conversation out of Yue. 

Her friend lit up when Katara came in, and the mood lifted quickly and easily, leading to a peaceful, week-long visit. Iroh stuffed them with tea and cookies. Lu Ten told stories about Zuko from their childhood. Yue and Katara spent too much time and money in the street markets, but when it came time to depart, no one was disappointed with how the trip went. 

Katara hugged Yue and Lu Ten goodbye, then Iroh, happy and excited that she’d see them all again in a few months at the Summit. After their goodbyes, Zuko helped her up into Druk’s saddle and the dragon took off, his wings snapping as they started in the direction of Ember Island. 

////////

If she called Caldera green, Katara had no idea what to say about the island. It was alive— alive with color, with wildlife. The sea spread out around them, blue and green against blinding, white sands. Palm trees were everywhere, shading the porch around the house. And the house itself was gorgeous. 

Zuko held her hand and lead her up to it. He unlocked and threw open the doors, revealing covered furniture and closed windows. Katara walked inside slowly, watching him pull back drapes, flooding the first floor with sunlight. 

The sea breeze stirred the room, bringing fresh air and birdsong with it. Monkeys chattered in the trees. Katara swore she could hear the ocean breaking against the shore. 

“This… this is stunning,” she said, smiling brightly. “It- it’s absolutely stunning. It’s the honeymoon we never got to have.” 

* * *

Zuko couldn’t believe how much he had missed the warm, sunshine, rolling shores, and hot sand of Ember Island. It was all just as he left it. He felt at peace as soon as he felt the sand between his toes. What made him even more ecstatic was that this time Katara was here with him. He was elated to be able to show her all that he had enjoyed for so long. He hoped she would love it as much as he did.

From the vibrant look on her face— she did.

Zuko walked up beside his wife, and put a tender hand on her back. He soaked her in a moment, his heart fluttering like the tail end of the curtain in the gentle breeze. He swallowed thickly, and had to look away when it scared him to realize that he was in love.

Zuko’s fingers gently curled against her clothes, and he smiled at her. “I’m so glad you like it. I can’t wait to show you around town… they have some great restaurants— with food from all over the world, so no Fire Nation food, if you don’t want,” teased Zuko. “And, we can go swimming, and walk along the beach, and I can show you my mom’s old room. She has lovely things… things that I can finally have someone I trust to pass them on to, someone who matters.”

* * *

“Her things are still here?” Katara turned away, looking up the hall. She hadn’t missed his comment— _someone who matters_ — but she didn’t want to tumble into exactly what he meant. She told herself that didn’t matter and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’d love to see her room, Zuko. I’d be honored, but… maybe we could eat first?” She moved her hands to his chest, plucking at this tunic. “I tend to be grumpy when I’m hungry.”

* * *

Zuko laughed, linking his hands at her lower back, smiling at her adoringly as she tussled with his shirt. “Eating sounds great,” he agreed, pecking her forehead.

He turned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “What kind of food are you in the mood for?” Asked Zuko, “—Why don’t we walk around in the town, and you can tell me which place you think looks best?” Suggested Zuko, as he locked the door behind him.

They then walked to the nearby little streets, which were already bustling and busy. The markets were full, the shops were lit, people were laughing and walking hand-in-hand. The economy might’ve been bad in the Fire Nation post-war and their trifling defeat and subsequent surrender, but these were the upper-class elites in this vacation town. He was one of them, really. They both were.

Zuko tried to push it from his mind and enjoy this de facto honeymoon with his wife. He linked his arm in hers, and stopped at the street performers venue. They were putting on his favorite, childhood show: Love Amongst the Dragons.

Zuko smiles brightly, tugging her over in excitement. “Kat! Kat! You have to see this!” Zuko exclaimed, “This was my favorite. My mother acted in it before she married my father. Azula and I used to put on pretend shows together when we were little. The book is the best, though, I ought to lend it to you. It’s a great read, cheesy, but well-written.”

* * *

“I’d love to see it,” Katara said, smiling at Zuko’s excitement. He looked like a kid again, all wide-eyed and giddy. She wondered if this was all some way of resetting for him, coming back and visiting cherished places now that the world was different. He could gain a new perspective, see things without bloodshed tainting them.

But, in a way, this place would always be stained by blood. Katara glanced around her, at the blank faces of the elite, all the riches that were normal to them. One cart sold trinkets from the Earth Kingdom, clothing, shoes, and furs. Another vendor boasted of waterbending scrolls among his items.

Katara looked away, back at Zuko, forcing a frown from her face. “Come on, we can go watch. I’m not that hungry anymore.” 

She took Zuko’s hand and pulled him into the theatre. They purchased their tickets, and Zuko bought them each a fruity cocktail to drink before leading the way to a booth reserved for the highest of the elites. Being royalty came with its own perks, apparently. 

And company—

“So, this is the Southern whoreyou married,” a flat tone, laced with bitterness, hissed in the booth. Katara turned, complete shock all over her features, and found herself face to face with a pale, dark-haired woman.

The woman stuck out her hand to Katara, clearly in mockery of a greeting, and sneered, “Mai. It’s a pleasure, _Princess._ ” 

* * *

Zuko was elated to be walking into the theater. He couldn’t wait for her to see the full-length show, and was surprised and delighted that she pulled him into the room. He brought them each a cocktail, and some fire flakes to at least quell her hunger until after the show when they could get dinner. He walked back over with a smile, and they were led up to the booth for only the most respected. It was one of the nice things about being prince, and he was sure Katara knew all too well as princess herself.  

But, what wasn’t as nice was who Zuko soon discovered he was sharing his booth with. It didn’t seem real that this could be so coincidental. He never saw her in Caldera, but here—in Ember Island, at this exact performance of Love Amongst the Dragons, she was here. It was his ex-girlfriend, and not the nice one. It was Mai, the governor’s daughter. Zuko let out a shaky sigh, but anger boiled his blood when he heard her slur. Zuko inhaled sharply, glaring at her. He was shocked that he would speak to her that way. Katara was the future queen of the world’s most powerful nation.  

He wanted to slap her in the instant, and he grimaced. All he could do was interject, moving Mai’s hand away. It took every bit of restraint Zuko had to withhold his boiling rage in his gut. “This is my wife, Mai. My wife is the crown princess of the Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko snarled pridefully, wrapping his arm around her waist almost possessively.  

But, Mai rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Don’t act so proud, Zuko. She didn’t pick you. No one would choose to be stuck with you their whole lives and breed offspring with odds of being just as awful, especially to put on their throne. Your poor nation,” Mai said in faux sympathy, turning to Katara then without shame or humility. “I’d almost say Iroh sent Zuko to your people intentionally to sabotage the reign, not in any violent way, but your country may fall to pieces if you have children as stupid as your husband. I’m terribly sorry you got such an awful end of the stick, Princess,” Mai spoke with a smirk.  

“And, you Zuko… perhaps I was no better a fool, but at least I’m not an easy whore. No offense, but I know what the women are like in the South. They have no modesty, no decency… there’ll be no way to know any children are yours anyhow, and well, could you blame her? Breeding elsewhere, despite the treaty’s intention, may be in everyone’s best interest. The heir could belong to any man in the tribe,” Mai chided.  

* * *

Katara shock faded, giving way to a smirk as this woman, _Mai,_ hurled a slew of insults at her ex… _boyfriend? lover?_  The way Mai spoke, she was clearly annoyed that Zuko wasn’t hers anymore, no matter what she said.

However, Katara could see Zuko was hurt by Mai’s words. Either he cared for the woman, or he felt defensive towards Katara, but Katara wasn’t remotely disturbed. She was… amused. “You seem  _upset,_ Mai.” 

“You’re trying to act as though you don’t care, like you won some prize by getting rid of Prince Zuko, but you’re angry, aren’t you?” Katara squinted, her lips curling upwards, “You’re slighted. You’re jealous. You weren’t a good match for the Fire Nation’s prince, but I— _some whore from the South Pole_ — I was, despite my lack of propriety.” 

She shrugged, her eyes flicking down the woman with disdain. “Zuko didn’t mind my experience. In fact, I’d say he enjoyed having a skilled woman to bed on his wedding night, based on his reactions to certain things.” 

“And I don’t need to defend myself or my marriage,” Katara said, taking Zuko’s arm, “but I’ll assure you of this— I’m faithful to my vows. Even if I hated him, I’d be faithful. Fortunately, I don’t hate him… I love him.” 

She pointed at the exit from the balcony and smiled cooly. “If you take issue with that, the door’s there. The Southern Water Tribe will compensate you for the ticket.” 

* * *

Zuko stood beside his wife with a proud smile on his face, looking his ex-girlfriend dead in the eye. He held her closer when she gripped his arm, and he felt a rush of pride of how eloquently she defended herself. She didn’t need him and his fumbling, not at all, not in the least.

He glared at her firmly when his wife finished speaking. “I’ll have you know Mai, despite what you may think, or what the talk is around here, I have never been happier in my life than I am with my life in the Water Tribe with my wife,” Zuko stated. “And, contrary to what you may believe, I was never more miserable than when I was dating _you_ ,” hissed Zuko. “Don’t ever speak about my wife, the future queen of the South, like that ever again. And, as she said, you know where the door is. Good night, Mai,” snapped Zuko, then turning from her, leaving her slack-jawed and boiling.

He turned with Katara, then, leading her to their deluxe seating, still holding the cocktail and fire flakes. He sat, setting the snack and drink down on the courtesy table before them. “That was a girl I dated when I was a teenager… sixteen or so. We had crushes on each other growing up, and she was Azula’s good friend. For some reason, I thought that would be enough to make a good relationship. I quickly found out that was a stupid notion. I’ve never had the displeasure of knowing someone so rotten and cruel in my life.”

* * *

Katara smirked as she snuggled up to Zuko’s side. “She does seem like a terribly bitter woman… It’s always amusing to me when a person says they feel a certain way, then behaves quite the opposite.” 

She stole a glance upwards, her eyes flicking over Zuko’s profile. If she even a fraction stronger, she would’ve told him that he was the same as Mai, in a way. He said he cared for her, that she was his friend, and he was happy being married to her— but, how he looked at her, defended her, spoke about her— Katara had the idea that Zuko loved her. 

At least, she hoped he did, even if he wouldn’t say it. But, she was too afraid of the letdown, if he denied it, so Katara pulled her gaze from his face and took a sip of her drink. 

“Oh, that’s strong,” she said, laughing as a shiver crept up her spine. “I’m apologizing now… you might have to carry me out of here.” Katara took another drink and winked. “At least I’ll be… _loose,_ as Mai would say.”

* * *

Zuko felt a pang of guilt hit his heart as Katara spoke of people who failed to tell the whole truth. He was lying of omission, that’s what his uncle would lecture him on. He loved his wife, but was too afraid to tell her, to admit it aloud, because what if he screwed up one day— what if she took it back. He was scared.

Zuko tried not to fret over it because Katara herself looked quite happy. Zuko took her hand as her free one held her cocktail. He laughed and squeezed her hand as she said that it was strong and jested about Mai’s harsh words. “Stop it!” Teased Zuko, leaning over and pecking her cheek. “You are not,” he hissed teasingly, his thumb running over her hand as he joyfully chuckled.

He patted her hand then, “I’ll get you home safe, though, don’t worry.”

* * *

“I appreciate it,” Katara teased, one brow quirked. A playful smile danced across her face, then the lights in the playhouse dimmed. She settled back in her seat and clutched Zuko’s fingers as the first of the actors moved onto the stage. 

The play was lively and funny, like Zuko said. Certain parts were fraught with dramatic declarations of love, over-the-top reactions and emotions, but Katara enjoyed it all. She could picture her husband coming as a child, and she tried to imagine Ursa’s part in the play. 

It was hard, without knowing much about her. As soon as the play ended and the applause subsided, Katara was flooded with the overwhelming desire to learn more about Ursa, to see what made up the woman and what Zuko cherished. 

She tugged on his arm in a bid to leave. “I want to go home, back to the beach house” Katara murmured. “You said before we left that you had some of your mother’s things to show me. I want to see them.” 

* * *

Zuko almost cried at that stupid play. It was too nostalgic, and reminded him so much of his mother. When it ended, he inhaled sharply, but smiled. He looked over at Katara when she gripped his arm as the curtains closed. “Aren’t you hungry, love?” Asked Zuko, “there are plenty of lovely restaurants downtown,” Zuko offered, but she seemed eager, suggesting they eat at home.

Zuko conceded with a shrug and a smile, getting rugged along by Katara. He smirked when they got outside, remembering her words, despite her lack of severe intoxication. He crept up behind her and scooped her off her feet playfully, lifting her bridal style through the town as people glanced at them funny. In the rural areas, people would take it light. They would probably mimic him, sweep their own girlfriends, wives, sisters, and children off the ground bridal style, and laugh. Here, people weren’t as laid back. Zuko didn’t care.

He laughed and pecked her cheek. “I promised I’d carry you home, and I’m a man of my word,” teased Zuko as they neared the little path that led to the private quarters of his beach home. Zuko stepped over the rugged terrain and finally spotted the beautiful home, sitting in the sand, right where he left it.

Zuko places his wife down on her feet with a tender embrace, then took her hand as they reentered the shore house. Zuko waved for Katara to follow, and he led her up the stairs. They creaked under his step, and Zuko opened the old nob to his mother’s door.

When it opened, Zuko exhaled sharply. “It’s just as she left it.”


	17. Chapter 17

Katara wandered into the room cautiously, met by the distinct smell of a room that’d been locked up for ages. Everything— the bed, the floor, the writing desk— had a fine layer of dust coloring it. Katara swept her hand along the bedspread, then wiped her palm off on her skirt and went to the window. 

“It needs a bit of light, don’t you think?” She pushed the curtains open and rolled up the bamboo window covers. Moonlight poured in, along with fresh air and the sound of waves. “That’s better.” 

She smiled as she turned around, finding Zuko just inside the door with a downcast expression on his face. Katara went back to him and squeezed his hand. “I’m sure her spirit misses you every day.” 

“Is this her?” Katara’s gaze had drifted to a portrait on the nightstand. A man, somewhere in his thirties, but the spitting image of Zuko, posed behind a young woman, his hand on her shoulder possessively. “And your father?” 

Katara blew the dust off the glass, her fingers brushing the small recreation of Ursa’s face. “You have her eyes,” she said, “kind, happy eyes.” 

* * *

The light illuminated the old room nicely, and it felt painfully nostalgic. He remember sitting on that embroidered rug with his mother while she read him stories and taught him to read. Zuko exhaled a shaky breath, and felt emboldened by Katara’s loving squeeze.

He smiled at her comment, touched to hear he had her eyes. Zuko took the frame from his wife delicately, tracing his fingers over her face slowly, and he didn’t even realize he was slowly crying until tears splattered the dusty glass.

“I loved her so…” Zuko whispered, tracing her outline with somber, fond smile. “I’m sure you understand,” Zuko said with a saddened chuckle. She too knew the pain. A choking sob escaped his throat, and he gripped the picture angrily then as he saw his father. He remembered his father’s eyes that night— when he burned his mother alive. “I’d like to burn half the picture, like he burned her alive in front of us,” Zuko choked out, biting his lip. “He didn’t care… and I didn’t do anything… I’m a firebender— I should’ve helped her… but I just stood there, I couldn’t move. I was too weak, I—“ Zuko inhales sharply, stopping himself.

He pinched his eyes, and exhaled long and trembling. “I’m sorry, Katara. I’m sorry, love. I- I —That… that was uncalled for. I’m sorry,” Zuko apologized gently, squeezing her forearm in apology. He took in a breath to steady himself then walked to the wardrobe.

He opened it, revealing dresses, and he glanced at his wife. “I think they’ll fit you,” Zuko whispered, tracing the gowns, “no sense letting them rot in here…” he murmured. He then pulled open a drawer, “And, this jewelry… and—“ he began, taking out the most sentimental bit for him. Her crown.

Zuko took it out, looking at his reflection, and rubbing his thumb over the dusty glass as his face became clearer, and he wished he was clearer on how he felt about himself. Zuko knew how he felt about his wife, however. He turned around and gave it to her. “I want you to have this… all of it, but especially this. She was proud to wear it… I’m proud to give it to you. She would be proud too… she’d have loved you so.”

* * *

Katara smiled and took the delicate hair piece from Zuko’s palm. The gold shimmered faintly in the moonlight, catching Katara’s reflection in its smooth plating. She undid the pin, then gestured for Zuko to help her as she pulled half her hair up into a bun. 

When she’d secured the crown in her chocolate locks, she grabbed Zuko’s hands and squeezed. “I’ll cherish it. Thank you. Thank you for all of this. I’m honored to have even a piece of Lady Ursa.” 

“I wish I’d been able to know her,” Katara said, sadness in her eyes. “If she was anything like you, I would’ve enjoyed every minute spent together.” 

* * *

Zuko soaked in how beautiful she looked with his mother’s pin in, and how it complimented the red in his dress. He thought how lucky he was that she didn’t detest his people and culture entirely. More than that, she respected him, and it, so much that she followed his practices in his homeland. A surge of love washed over him, and he felt incredibly grateful.

Zuko stepped towards her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Katara,” Zuko whispered in her ear, pressing his hand to the back of her head in affection. “I’m so lucky I have you,” he murmured. “I was so frightened before I came… I thought I’d be miserable by default, but I’ve never been happier.”

Zuko pulled back to look at her, his eyes sad, but ambivalently happy as well. “My mother wanted to send me away too,” Zuko admitted, his fingers fiddling at her collar absentmindedly. “She almost sent me to a village to protect me from my father, and she was going to remain in the palace… I begged her not to— begged my father, which was foolish because he _punished_ her for it,” Zuko said, biting his lip ruefully. “But, that was my greatest fear, coming here… that I would do something in mistake and be banished… dismissed… but even if I mess up now, I’m not scared. I trust you, Katara, more than I thought I would or could. I trust you fully,” Zuko told her, pulling her back into his embrace.

* * *

“I’m glad,” Katara murmured, her voice muffled against Zuko’s shoulder. “I’m so glad.” She turned her head and tucked her face into his neck, trying to drown out a swarm of self-doubt with the scent of his skin. 

She couldn’t help it though. Her mind wandered down a dark path littered with worry— Zuko spoke about his mother loving her, but he couldn’t speak for himself, wouldn’t speak for himself. He said he trusted her, said he was safe with her, but that must be a lie because he didn’t feel safe giving her his heart. 

Katara swallowed, tightened her arms around his neck for a breath, then let go. Her heels settled on the floorboards when Zuko released her waist, and her hands grazed down his arms to wrap her fingers around his wrists. 

“That’s all I really wanted,” she lied, to herself, to him. “I’ve said it a million times, I know, but, when I married you, all I wanted was to bring you happiness. And, I’m glad you feel safe in the South. I’m glad you’ve found a place there. I know my people admire and respect you. Some even love you… the teenage girls, mostly…” Katara laughed, diverting from the burdens laying on her heart. 

She pressed up on her toes once more and pecked Zuko’s nose. “They wouldn’t _dare_ take my husband from me.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled at her, pecking her lips in return for her kiss on the nose. “No one could if they tried,” retorted Zuko playfully, then stroking her cheek.

Zuko got her a few more of his mother’s things: some old books, including Love Amongst the Dragons, a fancy fountain pen with ink, some decorated parchment, a few broaches, and a light blanket. They toured the rest of the beach house, and Zuko prepared a traditional Fire Nation dinner suitable to Katara’s palate.

They spent the rest of the weak in a relaxing routine. They’d soak in the sun, go swimming, shop around town, get dinner, and lounge in their home. It was lovely— but before they knew it, it was time to go back to the Water Tribe. Zuko was surprised that he missed the place so much, and was ready to return. Though, he couldn’t say the same for its weather.

The two of them climbed aboard Druk, and set off for the Southern Water Tribe. It took a few days, but soon enough, they were back shivering, but tanner than before. Hakoda raced to them happily, running to embrace his daughter, but startled by Druk who replied with a cheerful lick— causing the older man to laugh, and then pull Katara in close, next tugging in Zuko.

“This is a family hug, Zuko,” insisted Hakoda, holding them close. “I missed you both very dearly. Welcome home.”

* * *

“We missed you, Dad.” Katara kept her arm around the chieftain’s waist as they wandered into the palace. “How were things without us? Did you manage? You know I’ll check with Kojak that you slept well and ate well and—” 

Hakoda cut her off with a laugh and kissed the top of her head. “Darling, please. I can get along just fine without being nagged at! Kojak will tell you that I slept and ate fine. I was only lonely at meetings. They’re boring without your wit,” he winked. 

“Well, I’ll be back in there tomorrow, making fun of the crotchety old men.” She nudged Zuko’s side. “The Prince will be joining us, as well. He has some ideas for an international council, and I thought we’d discuss them before the Summit.” 

“Sounds excellent, I’m looking forward to it,” Hakoda said, clapping Zuko on the back. “For now, let’s get you rested, and fed! I had a meal prepared specially for you: all the sea prunes you can eat.” 

Katara smiled while Zuko blanched, and this made Hakoda chuckle as they walked to the dining room as took their seats. The food smelled delicious, and there was an assortment of fish and other meats more suitable to Zuko’s liking, but Hakoda still teased him with a bowl of steamy prunes.

“So, tell me,” Hakoda laughed, wiping his eyes as he set the bowl aside, “tell me everything. How was your trip? How’s Princess Yue?” 

* * *

Zuko was glad to have returned to the Southern Water Tribe. He was happy to see familiar faces, most especially, Hakoda’s, glad to see his beloved dragon settling into his new home nicely, and he was delighted to be dining with the man he’d come to love as a father, as well.  Zuko smiled at the old man’s question, and nodded. “She seems well,” Zuko replied, hoping he was answering accurately. 

Zuko hurt for Yue. Yue was thrust into virtually the same situation as he was, and it wasn’t as though his uncle and cousin were anything but kind and welcoming to her, but Lu Ten didn’t love her, and if he ever did, it would take years, and by then, things may be too far gone on her end. Zuko hoped that wouldn’t be the case for him and Katara. He was lucky now– but how long would she wait for him? How long could her heart hold out on a limb? 

Zuko pushed away the thought, and decided to deliver the happy news to his father-in-law. “Yue is pregnant… the Fire Nation is ecstatic,” Zuko said with a smile, taking another bite from his dinner. Hakoda looked bright at this news, and he smiled at his daughter, then back at Zuko, and winked. 

“We know what that means,” he teased, and Zuko blushed deeply, and Katara looked annoyed. Hakoda put up a hand, waving them both off with a hearty chuckle. “I’m only teasing. I’m so happy to hear this. I’m sure they’re overjoyed. I’ll have to send my congratulations over to both the Fire Nation and the North,” Hakoda spoke, patting his daughter’s hand then. 

The family was finished with their dinner, and picking at desserts and sipping at liquor when Hakoda distracted the moment to clap his son’s-in-law shoulder. “Zuko!” exclaimed Hakoda, startling him, but he quickly settled and smiled, tilting his head. “I’m going out ice fishing tonight. It’s a tradition in my tribe to bring your son… I used to bring Sokka all the time,” Hakoda said sadly, but fondly. “I want to bring you.”

Zuko alit brightly, touched to the core at Hakoda’s suggestion. He looked at Katara as if to corroborate that the offer was legitimate. Katara was smiling widely, and she nodded at him, and Zuko looked back over at Hakoda, still grinning lopsidedly from ear-to-ear. “I would love that, Hakoda,” Zuko said sincerely, and with that Hakoda lead Zuko out to get him the proper winter gear and even thicker, heavier attire for the frigid wind that whipped off the sheets of ice in the lowlight. 

A sleigh pulled by reindeer brought them out to the best frozen lake that the chief knew. They came with bait, and some snacks themselves, and set up chairs to sit on. Hakoda brought a tool used to cut into the ice, but Zuko smirked, and proudly cut perfect holes with his firebending. Hakoda was incredibly amused by that, and the two of them set up their rods in the precisely-crafted fishing holes.

Zuko was freezing, and he kept bouncing his feet on his toes to the ice to keep warm. His scarf was up over his face, and the two men were sitting in solitude, not catching a bite, but still enjoying each other’s company. Finally, Hakoda broke the silence, “Zuko… I’m really glad you’re here, son.”

Zuko was surprised by his sentiment, but looked over more softly at the man, who looked older in the moonlight. Zuko noticed all the lines in his skin, the gray in his beard, and his hair, and the weariness in his eyes from the loss he’d weathered that was too great for any one man to bear in a lifetime. Zuko pulled his scarf down, “I- I’m glad I’m here, Hakoda,” Zuko replied sincerely, and Hakoda put a friendly and affectionate hand on his back.

“I haven’t seen my daughter so _happy_ in so long,” he whispered. “You’re good to her… I just wanted someone who’d respect her. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky to find a man who’d not only respect her, but cherish her, and be a real husband to her… and you’re a good man, Zuko. You’re a genuinely good man,” Hakoda told him. “I’m very happy to have you here in my tribe, and more importantly, in my family,” Hakoda spoke, warming Zuko’s heart, and making him laugh tenderly. 

“Hakoda, I’m glad to be here. I feel as though I belong, really,” admitted Zuko truthfully. “At first, I was horrified– of this place, of you, of Katara,” Zuko spoke. “But now… I can’t imagine living elsewhere. This… I mean, the Fire Nation, of course, will always be home, but… I find myself now, too, thinking of the South as home.”

Hakoda warmly smiled, squeezing Zuko’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that, son,” he told him. “As I was glad to hear of Yue’s pregnancy– they must be happy,” Hakoda mused aloud. “There is no hurry… I don’t want any pressure on you or my Katara, but I just want you to know that there is no one I trust more to father my grandchild… or likely, _grandchildren_ , than you, Zuko. You will be a great father. I have no doubts.”

Zuko wondered if Hakoda knew just how much that simple, complimentary sentiment meant to him. He wondered if Katara shared anything– or if Hakoda could tell, or if he just said it by coincidence. But, Zuko would cherish those words for the rest of his days. It was his biggest fear, and his greatest doubt. He had to look away when tears welled in his eyes. 

“ _Thank you, Hakoda_ ,” Zuko managed to get out, pulling his scarf back up in flustered embarrassment from his tears, but Hakoda only gripped his shoulder tighter. 

“I only hope that you have a waterbender, then my worries will be laid to rest,” Hakoda confessed through a deep sigh, and Zuko’s touched heart all but shattered– his trust crumbled with it. He couldn’t help it, he looked at Hakoda fiercely with intense, harsh judgement. Zuko was hurt by his words when he’d allowed such trust for him– when he thought he cared for him, and he thought him a man above such asinine bigotry. 

Hakoda caught this quickly, and didn’t anger. “No, no,” Hakoda spoke, “No, son, I don’t care… all I care for are healthy, happy babies, believe me,” he assured him. “But, I must respect my tribe and its traditions. I don’t want you and my daughter to have the pain of the consequence, of no one’s fault, of a lack of a waterbending child in the royal family,” Hakoda quickly explained, and Zuko’s sting of betrayal simmered out, but his confusion then peaked. He shook his head, still wary.

“Hakoda… I– I don’t… I’m not sure I understand,” Zuko began. “Katara told me that a waterbender is the preferred heir, but… she assured me no harm would come to any other children we have, non-benders or firebenders,” Zuko said, now feeling somewhat afraid. He would refuse to have children if there was any indication of potential harm to their potential children. Zuko shook his head then, as if in denial of it all. “I won’t allow that to happen, Hakoda… I’m sorry,” Zuko said stubbornly, not caring of the _consequence_ of those words.

Instead, Hakoda was proud of his indication of protectiveness. “Zuko, my daughter spoke the truth, nothing but love would ever fill the lives of your children. There is nothing to fear or worry of,” Hakoda promised. “I would never allow such a thing, nor would my daughter, and nor would you,” he teased lightly. “However… due to how critical it is– how imperative– it is to my people, and… myself, if I am honest, that the leader of this country be a waterbender– I must insist as well,” Hakoda began. “I was the only non-waterbending leader ever recorded to rule, and that was only because it was assumed they were extinct. Then, Katara was born– and when she showed her talents, she surpassed my son in succession for the throne,” Hakoda explained. 

Zuko still was murky, and he shook his head. “I don’t– Hakoda… what does this mean?”

Hakoda exhaled deeply, and swallowed thickly, “I don’t think it will come to this, but eventually, Katara will be asked to… to… take _another_ to consummation to aid in birthing a waterbending child, if you two are unable to produce a waterbender of your own. The odds are too great and too at stake now, with Katara giving such hope as a waterbender… we cannot let our culture die now– not when we’re teetering such a fine line, and there are so many waterbending men in the North… but you– you will have a waterbending baby, not to worry, Zuko. I just… I didn’t want you to be shocked.”

Zuko was left speechless then, looking away slowly. He didn’t believe it.  It all sounded true, but Zuko didn’t believe Katara would ever do that to him. Hakoda was stuck in the past, and Katara would not permit it. He looked forward fiercely, refusing to believe it, but he also didn’t want to dare ask his wife for fear of her answer. His doubt scared him more. 

“Zuko, son… this is not for years… you may not even try for children for so long. Don’t fret,” Hakoda tried to reassure him. “And, you likely will have a waterbender.”

“What will become of me?” Zuko asked, looking at his father-in-law. 

“Nothing, of course,” Hakoda promised. “You will remain Katara’s husband, if it came to that.”

“And, the man? The waterbending man?” 

“Well… they’d follow the same consummation ceremonies you and Katara did, but not the wedding parts, but… connection is still important when— when you are trying for a child. When trying for a child, the bond is always critical to our people. Katara would have to bond with this man, but you would always be her husband. The child would be treated as your own, however, Zuko. You would remain her husband the same,” Hakoda promised, but it all sounded so awful. It sounded like the horrid things the sages instructed him of, and now he knew where those rumors came from. 

Zuko didn’t care what Hakoda said– he refused to believe Katara would ever agree to such a thing. Hakoda was old, he was from different, more trying, desperate times. He didn’t dare question it, and the rest of the night was quieter. Hakoda felt guilty, and tried to lighten things, but it was too late. They went home with a few fish, and Zuko didn’t have the appetite for the conversation of the fish, so he headed straight to bed, his thoughts and heart both heavy. 

He was alleviated some when he opened the door to be met with the warmth of the hearth and his wife’s smile. Zuko through his heavy furs aside, and crawled over the bed to where Katara was reading Love Amongst the Dragons. He crawled over her, distracting her from her story, and himself from his worried mind, to kiss her deeply. “We got some fish if you’re hungry.”

* * *

“I’m alright. Dinner filled me up quite nicely,” Katara murmured, pushing her book aside. She wrapped an arm around Zuko’s neck, her free hand cupping his chin as he drew close. Her lips meet his eagerly, but the urgency and emotion in the kiss came as a surprise. 

Katara pulled back, looking up in the dim lamplight and finding muted gold on her. Zuko’s eyes watered slightly. “Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting up further. Katara wrapped her fingers in his hair, concerned and worried.

“Zuko, is everything alright? You look upset. My dad didn’t give you too much grief, did he?” Katara sighed, her cheeks flushed as she glanced away. “I know he’s a bit… brazen, but he’s only teasing about us _getting busy_ about kids. We don’t have to try until _you’re ready.”_

* * *

Zuko shook his head, leaning his forehead against hers. “Oh, I– I know he’s kidding,” Zuko assured her, his finger drawing shapes on her skin. He too afraid to broach the subject. She made it so easy, and if she told him no– confirmed what he believed, he’d feel so much better, but pushing if off in fear of the potential heartbreak just seemed easier. It wouldn’t be for years anyway, right? Like Hakoda said– they’d have a waterbender. 

“I’m just so tired,” he lied, kissing her cheek chastely before lying down on the pillow, and taking her hand affectionately, his thumb stroking her skin. The way she spoke now should confirm things enough for him. She respected him so, enough to wait to try for children. She spat at Mai, the idea, even if she loathed him, of taking another– infuriating her. He trusted her to believe that she would not _destroy_ his heart like that by so thoroughly throwing him away, even if what Hakoda said… made sense.

Those thoughts, the logic in Hakoda’s words, that was what made his stomach turn. But, he let out a shaky sigh, trying instead to focus on what they had now– and not fret over things not even on his radar yet, let alone set in stone. “I… I would be all right with trying, if you were, Katara,” Zuko said softly, blushing a little. “That thought doesn’t bother me, really… I’m scared a bit of fatherhood, but I always wanted to be a dad. I’ll always have my doubts, but… whenever you feel ready, Kat, I am.”

* * *

A smile spread across her face, slowly, warming her cheeks and brightening her eyes. Katara didn’t expect to suddenly feel so elated and giddy. Maybe it was Yue, talking to Yue or defending herself to Yue— somewhere, this desire settled in her heart and Katara found herself cupping Zuko’s face. 

“Yes. Yes, _please_. Zuko, I- I—” Katara swallowed, trying to calm herself before she lost all sense. “I want a baby, Zuko. I’d _love_ to have a baby, and I- I know you’re- you’re tired tonight, so we can— we don’t have to, tonight, _right now_ , but—” 

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. It felt too good to be true, made her too happy for it to be real. He was ready whenever she was ready. He wanted a baby, and Katara, she— 

“I’m ready, Zuko. I’ve been ready.” She bumped her nose against his, then trailed her fingers down Zuko’s jaw, inhaling the scent on his skin. “I’m happy and in love and I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Zuko, because you’ll love our baby. Please. I- I want to have a baby. I want to have one _with you.”_  

* * *

Zuko was still hurting when Katara smiled, but he did brighten. He warmed inside to see her so very happy to him being open to children, too. Zuko smiled, laughing happily, as her smiles were contagious. He rubbed his nose against hers, and raising his hands to cup her face.

“Good,” replied Zuko with a warm laugh, then laughing again when he realized what this all meant. “We’ll have a baby,” Zuko stated, happily. “Together… a little bit of you and me,” he spoke his thumbs stroking her cheeks. She stated she wanted a baby with him– and Zuko felt a tinge of bitterness towards Hakoda sting those words. He wanted to tell him ‘see, she wants a baby with me- not some waterbender from the North,’ but his heart still stung with fear too, and he knew Hakoda meant no malice in his words. 

“We’ll have a waterbender,” Zuko whispered, his breath shaky then. “I know we will,” he said more assuredly. “And, he or she will be healthy, and happy… and we’ll love them so… you’ll be the best mother, Kat. I know because you’re already the best wife,” he spoke tenderly with a light chuckle. “I want a baby too… I want a baby with you too, Katara. I’m nervous, but I want a baby. I want to start a family with _you_.”

* * *

“A waterbender? Why are you suddenly worried about a waterbender?” Katara quirked a brow, looking at Zuko curiously.  There was a distinct shift in his mood, a flicker. He seemed bitter and upset, for a second, then it disappeared behind a shallow laugh. 

She didn’t buy it. Katara sat up all the way, folding her arms across her chest with a sigh. “We won’t know what talents the baby has for years, Zuko, and I don’t want the child to carry the unnecessary weight of their bending abilities.”

“I thought we talked about this,” Katara growled, scowling at him. “We talked about this when we first got married. We agreed it didn’t matter. We said we’d love our kids no matter what, love them equally, and now you’re fretting over something none of us can control? What’s going on? What changed, Zuko?” 

* * *

“ _I_ don’t care! But, _your tribe_ cares!” Zuko exclaimed, sitting up then, upset. He looked at her with worry. “Your tribe will only crown a water bender! That means everything to them! If I were living in some little house in the outskirts of town with you, I wouldn’t care at all! Personally, it means nothing to me which element, or if it all, our kids bend,” Zuko explained.

“And, of course— _of course_ — I will love them all no matter what, and all the same, but if having a waterbender makes things easier, then I’ll keep it to myself, but I’m going to be wishing that our child bends water,” Zuko told her, his fingers subconsciously fidgeting with the blankets.

“I don’t want to disappoint your people… and you… I don’t…” Zuko trailed off, growing upset. He pinched the bridge of his nose, like he did when he was under duress, or withholding tears. Zuko’s voice was thick and warbled in his throat. “Katara— I don’t want to cause problems! Your people will— Katara, I love you! I love you, okay? So I just can’t— I just… if we have a waterbender, things will be _easier_.”

* * *

Katara quieted, her eyes widening. Her lips parted slightly, then curved into a slight smile. “You love me…?” she whispered, shocked and disbelieving. “You… _love me._ Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” 

She reached for his hands, holding them in her lap as tears sprang up in her eyes. “Zuko, I love you. You know that, and you don’t need to worry about my feelings changing… “

Katara squeezed his fingers, watching Zuko’s face shift through a myriad of emotions. Something was wrong. She had a sinking feeling in her gut that her father had given Zuko the details she’d refused on their wedding night. 

She didn’t want to ask, though. She didn’t want to know the truth of what worried her husband, because Katara didn’t have the words to explain— no matter how much she loved him, as the heir, as the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe—

Katara pushed it from her thoughts. There was no reason to worry, none at all. She wasn’t pregnant, and even if she was, most children didn’t display any affinity for an element until they were four or five. They had _time_.

She brushed a lock of Zuko’s hair behind his ear and smiled. “Zuko, I love you so much. No matter what happens in the future, no matter how many children we have or what they bend, I’m always going to love you. All I want is a long, happy, love-filled life with you.” 

* * *

Zuko nodded in response to her words, his eyes teary. “I love you, Katara,” Zuko repeated, this time nodding in sincerity. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, but I love you. I really, really love you- so much,” Zuko assured her.

“I just want you. I want to have a happy, healthy family with you,” Zuko told her, “That’s how I knew I was ready— because I know I love you. I’ll always love you, for the rest of our lives,” Zuko told her.

He pulled her into an embrace, pressing his hand to the back of her head. “I never imagined I’d be so lucky to find a friend in this forced marriage, let alone the love of my life. You’re the kindest, bravest, smartest, funniest, and most beautiful person I have ever known,” Zuko whispered sincerely. “No matter what happens from now until I die— I’ll be here for you.”

“I love you, Katara.”


	18. Chapter 18

The Summit was just three short days away. Guests were arriving in droves, bringing ships and sounds and colors from all over the world. Cheif Arnook had already made the journey South. The Earth King, Earth Prince, and Princess Azula were due that afternoon. Fire Lord Iroh was expected the next day, with Lu Ten and Yue. Zuko was ecstatic to see them again, and Katara was happy, too, but on this particular morning, she was worn down and fatigued. 

She snuck out of the palace after breakfast, leaving Zuko alone with her father. The men didn’t seem to notice; they were leagues deep in a discussion about the various dignitaries included in Zuko’s council proposal. Katara left a message with a guard in case one of them went looking, and then made her way to the stable built just for Druk. 

The dragon stirred in his nest, lazy from a recent meal, but happy to see her, nonetheless. He nuzzled Katara with his snout, his breath hot through her furs.

“Hey, Druk,” she laughed, tickled by the dragon’s muzzle. Katara cupped Druk’s chin and laid her forehead against his nose. “How are you, _hmm?_ Sleep well?” 

Katara lifted her eyes, and Druk blinked slowly. She’d come to understand the dragon— he knew her moods, he knew when she was happy, sad, or scared. It made Zuko jealous, truthfully, how well Druk had bonded with her, and vice versa. 

“I envy you,” she muttered, walking around Druk and sliding down his side. He curled around her, keeping her warm as he watched her with one, soulful, golden eye. “Your father kept me up. _Late._ He’d say I’m ruining your innocence if I told _what_ he was doing to keep me up… but I imagine you’ve heard the guards complaining about our late nights more than once over the last month and a half.” 

Katara smiled with a light sigh, then closed her eyes and rested a hand on her belly. It was new— brand new. She’d only put the clues together a few days ago, and being a healer, Katara was able to confirm it quickly. 

She was nervous, but she tried to hide it as Druk huffed, impatient with her stalling. 

“Zuko will kill me if he learns I’m telling you first,” Katara looked at the dragon, smirking, “but I’m curious what you think it will be. A boy or a girl? A waterbender? Maybe a fire-breathing beast, like you?” 

A teasing growl rumbled in Druk’s chest, and Katara laughed. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’m positive no child of mine could ever contend with your ferocity. You’re unrivaled.” 

That seemed to appease him, and Katara was able to settle back in a state of peace, lulled half-asleep by the dragon’s gentle breath. Eventually, footsteps woke her, and Katara blinked awake to find Zuko entering the stables, a cup of tea prepared for her. 

She smiled at her husband. “You found me.” 

* * *

The weeks turned to months and they breezed by before Zuko knew it. Hakoda’s words in the ice were long forgotten, buried as nonsense that his wife would never allow. He was happier than ever with Katara. The two of them were head over heels in love, and found peaceful complacency in their day-to-day lives.

He couldn’t believe that it was already the Summit. Zuko was nervous as hell to present his proposal and introduce who was going to serve on it, but he was delighted to be seeing his family again. Things were all falling into place.

Zuko tucked his scarf in and grabbed tea for his wife, using his bending to keep it hot as he went outside to the stable. He smiled when he saw Druk, but the dragon jumped with a huff of smoke in front of Katara as Zuko neared. Zuko looked at him funny, a bit hurt. He looked at Katara in concern. “Druk, it’s me,” Zuko stated, inching as close as Druk would permit.

Zuko handed Katara the tea and hesitantly reached to pet the dragon, who finally submitted. “Good boy, it’s just me,” he assuaged him. Zuko shook his head to his wife, “That was odd,” commented Zuko, but he brushed it off.

“I’m nervous for the Summit— but excited. Your dad and I were just talking. What about you? Are you ready?”

* * *

“I’m fine,” Katara said, smiling privately at the dragon. Her eyes flicked to Zuko when she was given the tea, and Katara patted the ground for Zuko to sit beside her. “I’ve been a part of the ruling in the South since I can remember. It’s second nature to me now… but I understand your nerves.” 

She took a long draught from her tea, then offered the cup to Zuko. “Here. Have just a bit. Wasn’t your uncle always talking about how much you benefit from calming tea?”

Zuko took it, and Katara winked, a laugh bubbling up. “Maybe Druk could use some too. He wasn’t grumpy in the least when I first came in—” Katara looked at the dragon with a disapproving frown. “What it is, Druk? Don’t recognize the man who raised you?” 

* * *

Zuko smiled graciously at his wife, sipping from her tea cup as he thought of his uncle. “I’ll be so glad to see him in a few days now. I’ve missed him so much it aches,” admitted Zuko as he set down the mug again with a deep sigh, glancing over at his dragon. 

But, he pouted when Katara spoke about how Druk hadn’t stirred at all at her appearance. “What’s the matter, Druk?” Zuko asked, patting his head, a smirk on his face. “You know I love you,” teased Zuko, then he nodded towards Katara too, “And her, I love Katara too,” Zuko spoke, leaning over to peck her cheek. 

Zuko lied back in the hay, yawning while rubbing at his eye. “I’m so tired I ought to have at least two more cups of tea. I could fall asleep right here.”

* * *

“It’s your own fault,” Katara teased, jabbing Zuko’s side. “You kept us all night, and the night before, and the night before that.” She smirked for a moment, before winking at him. “Not that I minded… though I suppose the midnight marathons won’t be necessary any longer.”

Katara smiled, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she found her husband’s gaze too perceptive. Butterflies stirred in her belly at the notion of telling him— what if he changed his mind? What if he lied about wanting this? She knew, when dreams became a reality, that sentiments could change.

A quiet sigh escaped her. Katara rested against Druk’s warm, scaled side and resigned to keep Zuko guessing. It was more fun, in any case.

“I’ve heard dragons can be defensive over their young… or, what they perceive to be their young.” She took the tea cup back from Zuko and hid a smile behind it. “I’ve also heard that dragons are quite territorial. You know, you raised him… perhaps Druk fears being replaced soon.”

* * *

“Oh yes, I did this all on my own accord,” teased Zuko, leaning back into her when she teased him. “Unnecessary? Oh, I think that they are quite necessary,” jested Zuko, kissing her cheek. 

Zuko sat up and leaned against Druk with Katara as she spoke, watching her sleepily, but attentively. He closed his eyes, smiling at her, until her words dawned on him. He raised his head from Druk slowly, his eyes opening, and he was left slack-jawed. 

“Katara…?” Zuko asked, his eyes wide with anticipation that grew into a huge smile that alit to the side. “Are you? What are you saying? Are you– are we…? Are you–? Kat?” Zuko said with a laugh, taking her hand, squeezing tight, and his other befell her stomach. Tears filled his eyes in joy, and he laughed, “A _**baby**_?”

* * *

Katara nodded, and slowly, a bright, happy smile spread across her face. “A baby,” she murmured, putting her hand over his.

“We’re having a baby, Zuko. We’re really having a baby, a little piece of me and you. I just found out a few days ago and came out here to tell Druk.” She laughed when the dragon grumbled, like he was still unsure about the idea of having a sibling. Katara hushed him, then leaned into Zuko with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We’ll have some work to do with him,” Katara said, “but, Druk will be fine as long as he’s the only ferocious beast around here,” she teased. “I, on the other hand, will be thrilled as long as the baby is healthy and strong. La— I’m so happy, Zuko. And excited. We’re going to have a family.”

* * *

Zuko’s face illuminated to the point his grin overtook the rest of his features. The prince laughed joyfully, and clasped his hands, giddy with surprise and excitement. “A baby!” exclaimed Zuko, “I can’t believe it! That’s wonderful, Kat! That— That’s amazing! That’s… that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” Zuko rambled on, overjoyed and still in shock. It didn’t seem real– a baby. They’d made another person. He was going to be a father. She was going to be a mother. They’d be parents in a mere matter of months.

Zuko embraced Katara tightly, still laughing as tears bloomed in his eyes. He peppered her face in kisses as the tears began to fall with hers, and he repeated the words in disbelief: “a baby”. Zuko refused to let her go, laughing happily and at her teasing of their beloved dragon. “I’m sure Druk will be thrilled when he gets to meet his new, little brother or sister,” jested Zuko, swiping at his face with the brightest, askew smile.

Zuko cupped her cheeks, shaking his head before biting on his lower lip. He was wonderstruck. He knew they’d been trying, but to know it had actually happened, that his wife was pregnant, was unbelievable still. Zuko never thought he could be so happy. He met her gaze deeply, his own eyes shimmering sincerely. “I’m so, so happy. I’m thrilled, Katara. We’re starting our family- together- I’m… I’m so happy. Agni, Kat, I love you so much. I love you more than anything. I– I already love our baby. I’m so happy– so happy. I love you.”

* * *

“I love you, too, Zuko.” Katara reached up to cup his chin, then kissed him on the lips tenderly. “We’ll have a family soon, maybe even a big one.” Katara pulled back and smiled. “Someday. I’m getting ahead of myself, I suppose.”

She laughed and got to her feet, pulling Zuko up with her. “Come on, we should tell my dad before the day gets too busy. He’ll be thrilled. He’ll probably crush you in a hug.”

Katara pat Druk goodbye, tugging Zuko from the stables and out into the streets. It was chaos, a wonderful kind, with so many new faces, colors, and dialects. She kept her head down to avoid being stopped by any meandering dignitaries, and weaved her way back to the palace.

Her father was alone— thank the spirits— watching guards and servants bustle about with final preparations for the arrival of the Earth King’s ship. Katara snuck up beside him, still holding Zuko’s hand and wearing a shy smile.

“Dad?” She swallowed, inexplicably nervous now that she had the chieftain’s attention. He raised his brows curiously, and Katara sucked down air. "Daddy, I- I’m—“

Hakoda chuckled, “You’re pregnant.”

“How did you know?” Katara was almost pouting.

“Your mother had that same look in her eye both times she told me.” Hakoda winked at her, but his eyes quickly softened, filling with tears. He pulled Katara into an embrace, grabbing Zuko and drawing him in, too. “Congratulations, Katara. Congratulations, both of you. I’m so happy for you. I’m so _proud_ of you.”   
  


* * *

Zuko laughed as Katara pulled him along through the snow, giddy as his footsteps crunched, and they passed people from all over the globe. It was refreshing to see so many different faces intermingling amiably instead amidst bloodshed on the battlefield. This was the future Zuko envisioned when thinking of his council– this was the future he wanted to protect for his future child, after all, their baby would be from two different backgrounds. That would be a first for centuries. 

When they came into the palace, to Hakoda’s office, the man was as kind and gentle-looking as ever. He was a stern man, but somehow soft at the same time. Zuko found it admirable, and he looked up to him. He hoped he would be happy. 

By the look on his face, Zuko had gotten his wish. Zuko laughed joyously as his father-in-law tugged him into his arms along with Katara, and they all stood in a tearful, overjoyed embrace– a family hug. Zuko realized then and there how nice it felt to belong. He’d found a family in the South, one that he loved, and who loved him in return.

“Thank you, Hakoda,” replied Zuko, smiling at the man. “We couldn’t be happier,” he assured him, kissing Katara’s cheek, when a call had them all turning their heads. 

“Zuko!” cried the soft voice. 

Zuko knew that voice. He recognized how it sounded of honey, and made him feel warm and nostalgic. He’d know it anywhere. 

He turned around with a wide smile, wiping at his face, and still holding his wife’s hand. “Jin!” called Zuko, surprised. “Jin! Is that really you?”

* * *

_Jin._

Katara didn’t recognize the name, but she recognized the look on her husband’s face— sheer joy, blatant affection. Something unfurled in her stomach, something angry and biting. The mystery woman closed the distance in the foyer, and Katara wanted to tug on Zuko’s hand and pull him away. 

But she couldn’t… because he was smiling so brightly and laughing like a fool. Then, his hand ripped out of hers and flattened on the small of Jin’s when she bounded in for a hug. 

Whatever was so angry and biting in her stomach _snarled._ Katara bit down on her lip to keep the bitter sound locked away. Her father was watching. There were guests milling around them. She was a princess, _the princess._

The woman—  _Jin—_ finally released Katara’s husband, and being the princess, Katara curtsied and smiled. “Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe…”

“Jin!” A perky voice filled the foyer and a delicate hand stretched towards Katara in some sort of greeting. 

Katara stared at Jin’s fingers, then lifted her gaze with a note of disdain. She didn’t miss how Zuko had yet to unwind himself from her, or how Jin had yet to release Zuko’s sleeve. She clung to him like she belonged to him… and Katara found herself swallowing the urge to have Jin arrested for assault. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jin. You’ll have to tell me how you know my husband.” 

* * *

Zuko was so glad to see his old friend– former lover. He was no longer in love with her, his entire heart belonged irrevocably to his wife, Katara. He only had eyes for the South’s princess, but it’d be a lie if he said he didn’t still care for Jin. She’d always be an important part of his adolescence and a fond friend. He hoped Katara could understand that. He hoped she’d trust him. Something in her gaze had him doubting that’d be possible. He knew Katara well enough to see the icy hatred in her blue gaze. 

Jin acted either ignorant to Katara’s demeanor, or she was trying to be a bigger person than to give her that response. Zuko looked between his past and present loves and his cheeks flared with a deep and almost ashamed blush at Katara’s retorted inquiry. He didn’t want Katara to think at all that his affections wavered in the slightest. He didn’t want Jin to think so either, even if it’d hurt her. 

Zuko slowly moved back over to his wife’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist with a possessive squeeze, trying to signal to them both where his loyalties and love lied. 

Jin watched Zuko’s movements with a saddened gaze, but shook it from her visage when she glanced back up at the woman she lost her lover to. “Oh, well… this is rather awkward, but we were only children, really. Zuko was living in the Earth Kingdom with his uncle and Zuko and I were more or less of an item… in simpler days… we used to talk of running away together, having a family… it was all so romantic,” laughed Jin, blushing herself, and Zuko’s face grew redder, and he interrupted urgently.

“–It was a summer fling, more or less,” Zuko spoke. “We– We were kids, like Jin said… we had fun together, but now Jin is my friend,” Zuko assured her, looking at them both. “Jin… this is my wife, Katara. Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe. What is it you’re doing here, if you don’t mind my asking, Jin?”

* * *

“Well, I- I wanted to see you, Zuko,” Jin replied. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she blinked, looking expectant and far too sure of herself. 

Katara, on the other hand, stood stiffly in Zuko’s embrace, not welcoming it, but not wanting to shun it either. She willed one of her former lovers to march into the palace— some of them did already; there were a handful of guards she’d bedded, but Zuko didn’t know it. She could make it clear, though, give Zuko a taste of what she felt, being lied to and deceived. 

_Nothing serious._ That’s what he’d said when they first married. There was nothing serious in his past, no one he loved, but Jin was boasting about Zuko’marriage proposals and their dreamt-up family, right in front of her.

And she kept on, smiling at Zuko, approaching Zuko, finding some brazen rash courage she’d be better off losing.  “I thought, maybe, I don’t know— the war ended, and you left the Earth Kingdom so suddenly. I loved your letters, but I’d hoped you’d come back and we—” 

“Childhood fantasies are always so sweet, aren’t they?” Katara decided she’d had enough. She had a knack for cruel, cutting remarks that ate away at exposed flesh. 

“I used to dream of running away with a warrior from the North,” she sighed, playing up her story with a day-dreamy shrug. “It was going to be so romantic. We’d hide in the Earth Kingdom, have a family. No one would ever find us, and he’d love me so… but, I was just a girl.” Her eyes turned to ice as she glared at Jin. “I grew out of such naive dreams.” 

Katara watched Jin’s smile crack. It only took a second. Then, Katara plastered on her own smile and looked up at Zuko. “Why don’t you take your company to one of the guest suites, my love? It wouldn’t do to have such an esteemed visitor stay anywhere but in your home.” 

* * *

Zuko backed away when Jin reached for him. He was uncomfortable with Jin’s advances. He hadn’t had to deal with such things here. No one would have the courage to try to take the princess’ husband. He was shocked Jin did, regardless of her national origin. Besides, royalty or not, Jin knew he war married. What did she expect? She knew him well enough to know that whether or not he loved his wife, he would not betray his vows to her. Zuko was confused about what she wanted– did she come here just for him? 

He looked down uncomfortably when Katara snapped at her, too. Katara wouldn’t want to hear it, but it wasn’t as though he no longer cared at all for Jin. He wished Jin’s feelings had vanished too, they could continue on easier as friends– just and simply so. But, he had a pretty good inkling that Katara would not want that at all given Jin’s rather blatant affections. 

Zuko let out a shaky sigh, not knowing how to respond to any of this– Jin’s outpouring, but subtly executed and undercut attraction, or Katara’s underhanded remarks of jealous disdain. Zuko ran his hand through his hair, his other still on his wife’s back. He nodded along at her suggestion, for what else could he do?

He leaned in and kissed Katara’s cheek, squeezing her hand and looking her directly in the eye, hoping she’d get his unspoken message. “Okay, I’ll be right back,” he whispered, nodding with another sigh. The tension was palpable in the air, and he turned back to Jin with another smile. He put a friendly hand on her upper back as he led her through the door towards the palace. 

Jin linked her arm in Zuko’s, and looked up at him with a smile, though it was laced with sadness.  “Zuko… I know… I know how things are– you and the princess are… in this arranged… situation, and I don’t mean to disrespect that, okay? But, I don’t want to lie to you. My feelings for you haven’t wavered. I want… I need to know how you feel. I don’t– I- I would never do anything to ever come between… anything, but I need to know, Zuko… I–”

“–Jin,” Zuko interrupted, gently pulling apart from her with a deep sigh. “I– I… I’m glad you came all this way to see me, really, I am. I’m so happy to see you again, and I’ve missed you, really. But, Jin, I’m married. You know I’m married. If I hated Katara, there could be nothing of this… the treaty, my vows– it’s wrong enough, Jin, you’re better than that– to even want that, to be… second, to be a mistress, Jin. That’s what you’re implying here, skirting around. But, Jin… it’s more than that– than the words and the legislation involved and the politics. I– I love her, Jin, I do. I fell in love with her, and… Jin, I’m sorry, but… I don’t… I don’t have feelings for you anymore. I did, of course, I did. I never lied, Jin, I promise you, but… I was– we were teenagers, like you said. Katara and I are starting a family, and I love her, and I can’t have her thinking anything is going on,” Zuko stressed. “I’m sorry.”

Jin stiffened at Zuko’s staggered and sugarcoated rejection. Her breath was tight, and she was holding in tears, but she understood, and suddenly felt humiliated and absurd. “Fuck, Zuko,” she laughed out, her eyes glazed with tears. “Oh my God, what… what am I doing?” she spoke. “Zuko… I– I should never have even suggested… or implied… I’m sorry, Zuko. That was… that wasn’t right, you’re right– it was… I was wrong, that was wrong,” she stammered, stumbling then at the door Zuko gestured to as the one to her room. “I– I’m going to unpack, and… you– you should go to your wife. I– I’ll see you. I’ll talk to you at dinner… I– I…” she trailed off, losing her train of thought in her embarrassment as she fumbled to open the door. She quickly closed it behind her, leaning against it before sliding to the floor in crushed defeat. 

Zuko stood at the door, lingering a moment. He didn’t want to hurt her, but it was inevitable. It would be far worse to hurt Katara. He didn’t want her to have any doubts of where his feelings lied. Zuko sighed deeply before turning around and heading back to the room they were in earlier, hoping she was still there. He smiled somberly when she still was, and headed towards her. 

“Can we… can we talk?”

* * *

Katara gave Zuko a curious look when he returned, feigning ignorance, “What about?” She pursed her lips. Her gaze flicked down him. “Your ex… fiancee in my house? Or your plans to marry her? Perhaps we could discuss how you lied to her back then… _and to me.”_

“You’re quite the little heartbreaker, aren’t you?” Katara glared, then shrugged like all of it meant nothing. “As far as I’m concerned, Zuko, there’s nothing to talk about. Everyone has _pasts_ trailing around, don’t they?” 

She stared at Zuko for a moment longer, then Katara’s eyes drifted a particular guard among the many. Katara rarely said anything to him, aside from curt instructions. Zuko had likely never considered the man as a piece of Katara’s past, but surely, he did now—

The guard came brushing past them, on his way somewhere to arrange something. He gave a short nod in her direction, but Katara did more than simply return it.  

“Good evening, Roran. I hope you’re well. It’s been so long since we last…  _spoke.”_

He stopped, bowed, took too long to straighten, his eyes dragging up from her feet to her face. “My Princess. I am. Thank you.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Katara smiled, then the man went on his way, his cheeks pinker than when he came. She watched him fade among the crowd, and her gaze finally landed on Zuko again, shifting to that of jagged ice as she fought to hide the rage in her belly. 

“How’s it feel?” she spat. 

* * *

Zuko clenched his jaw as Katara tugged over a handsome guard, flirting with him with spiteful intent. Zuko’s gaze narrowed in apparent vexation, and he inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to snap– just yet. He huffed as he folded his arms over his chest, waiting for Katara to be done with her little stage performance. He rolled his eyes as the guard faded away and Katara spat at him with some vengeful comment. 

“How’s it feel? You mean- how does it feel that my wife _intentionally_ and pettily went out of her way to try to _hurt_ me by flirting with another man because some… puppy love came waltzing back into my life unannounced? It feels pretty damn shitty, Katara. You must be awfully proud of yourself. You should join the Ember Island Players for such a performance- it was truly marvelous,” Zuko sarcastically snarled back, clapping slowly with sardonic intent.

He walked over closer to her, bitter from her histrionic, little exchange with the good-looking guard she deliberately fished out. “She was not my fiancee. That is absurd, first of all,” Zuko harshly retorted. “I was _sixteen_ -years-old, Katara. Jin was _fourteen_ ,” he growled. “We were just saying that! We thought we were so in love! We were kids! It was literally a summer fling! We would sit there and we’d drink milkshakes from a stand and play pretend about running away together because we both were so overwhelmed with the pressures of life! I didn’t even know I’d be sent away then! The treaty wasn’t even a concept!” Zuko cried, furious at her accusations like he’d deceived her or purposefully tried to wound her heart. 

“It’s not like I was out to hurt Jin, either. Every second with her was real. I never lied to her. Things changed– _I_ changed, I grew up. I went home after my uncle’s political relocation from discussions about the colonies with King Kuei were through, and my feelings faded, and we both grew apart. It just happened, for Agni’s sake,” Zuko responded sharply. 

“I thought it was serious at the time, sure. What teenager doesn’t like to think their infatuation and, call it what you may, maybe love, is everlasting– some kind of soulmate… that summer, sure, I loved her. I told her we’d run off, she agreed, and we’d talk out the details of plans for a future that, in retrospect, was obvious we could never have,” Zuko explained. “Don’t go accusing me of things that you don’t even know for certain, Katara,” Zuko said sharply. “I didn’t do a thing! She showed up– she hasn’t written to me or spoken to me in seven years, Katara. It has been seven years without a word! Now– she shows up, acting ridiculous, knowing I’m married… I don’t understand it any better than you,” clarified Zuko. 

“But, I’ll have you know, I told her right now that there would be nothing of us. Perhaps if she felt differently, we could be closer friends, but I don’t even want to give her that because I don’t want to worry you,” Zuko stated firmly, still irked by her unfounded allegations. “I love you. If I’ve given you reason to think you even have the slightest bit to worry about, then… I don’t even know where to begin to apologize, but that’s the only thing I’ll be apologizing for.”

* * *

“Oh, shut up,” Katara hissed, fists clenched by her sides. She squeezed her hands tighter, irrational, furious; then, she was shouting. “I said shut up! _Shut up!”_

The room descended into silence. Zuko and the servants were all shocked, all alike in their gawking, parted lips and wide stares. But, while the servants quickly took their leave, Zuko stayed put and Katara snarled up at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t want to be told a thousand times again that you love me. I don’t—“ She choked, fighting the telltale sting of tears.

She was being stupid, and she knew it. A surprise guest from Zuko’s past and she was suddenly questioning the truth of his love for her? It didn’t matter how little sense it made when she spelled it out. Katara couldn’t even begin to reason with the jealousy her stomach. She couldn’t reason the panging hurt away.

“You _chose her,”_ Katara whispered. Her voice came out broken and quiet. “You wanted her. You didn’t want me. You’re just here because a treaty- _a treaty—“_ She brought a fist to her mouth, gnawing in her knuckle, trying to rebuild her stonewall of a facade.

“The treaty’s void,” she said, swallowing the fear that she’d lose him. Katara didn’t want him, not if paper was all that kept him here, kept him from a chosen life. “There’s no need for it. In three days, there will be an international committee to keep the peace. The treaty is null and void.”

* * *

Zuko was taken aback by her sudden shouting, and he grimaced in annoyance and a bit of hurt. She wasn’t taking anything he said seriously at all, and she was dismissing every word. What had he even done wrong? A teenage love traipsed into a public, international event from his past, and she was acting as if he’d run away with her. 

_Did_ she not believe him? His heart hurt deeper at the thought. He’d given her his entire heart and soul– handed it over with all the trust he had. It was hard for him to trust, especially someone with the vulnerabilities of his heart, and she had it all, and he’d bared it all for her– and her alone. She knew things his uncle hadn’t a clue of. She had more pieces of him than anyone. He gave her all the love he had, and she didn’t believe him. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. 

He felt selfish then because if she didn’t believe it, then she was hurting far worse than he. Because he believed she loved him. She must be broken to think he didn’t really love her. Zuko quieted then, his anger dwindling to guilt and heartache. He glanced around at the guards, wishing they’d all disappear. His brows tightened, and he frowned deeply, staring at her shoes like they were the most interesting things in the world.

Zuko looked up sharply when she finally spoke, her own voice was quiet and hurt– trembling– as he expected. It made his breath cinch and his chest clench. “I was _sixteen_. I didn’t know _what_ I wanted. I could say you chose that guard more than you chose me, too,” Zuko mumbled back quietly, the both of them crestfallen. He shook his head, placing his hand on his forehead in stress. 

“If when you say I didn’t want you, you mean I didn’t choose to be sent over here, I guess you’re right. I didn’t. I did not choose to be married off, no. You didn’t choose to be married off, either. I didn’t choose you in that regard any more than you have chosen me. Neither of us met, fell in love, and agreed to wed in the traditional sense. We both did it for our countries… for the world,” Zuko whispered, his own voice wavering with emotion. 

He met her gaze then, despite the difficulty as his watered to match hers. “But, what I do know is that I choose you every day. Every single day when I wake up, and I look at you, I choose to love you. Every time the sun goes down, we’re in bed, and I kiss you goodnight, I choose to be with you. I didn’t choose to marry you in the legal sense, no… but I did choose to marry you with my heart– and in my soul, I did. I chose to give you my heart… and bare to you my soul, and every inch of myself that I’ve never given anyone else on this planet. I chose it all… and I don’t regret those choices, not even for a split second… I never have, and I doubt I ever will,” Zuko replied, his voice soft for if it was any deeper, the cracks in it could be heard like a smoldering fire. 

Zuko looked away again when she voided the treaty, and he inhaled sharply in pain because at initial hearing, it sounded like she was throwing him away. But, he knew better. He knew her better, and though the guards didn’t, and they exchanged looks of apprehension on Zuko’s potential apprehension, Zuko did. He knew her. “Katara…” Zuko said as flatly as he could muster. “You can’t void an international treaty… you aren’t the Chieftess yet,” he spoke, “But, I’ll save you the heartache and the games… you don’t need a test– I’m sorry you feel the need to test me. That means I’ve done a rotten job of being your husband… and I’m sorry– I mean it, I’m sorry,” Zuko choked out, unable to hide the palpable hurt in his voice any longer.

“Treaty or not, I’d be here now. No, I didn’t love you yet in the beginning… I didn’t choose to be your husband, but as I told you– I do now, every day. I don’t need a treaty to know that I love you… that I’ve chosen to unequivocally and immutably. And… I’m… I’m so sorry that hasn’t been enough,” Zuko choked out, the tear finally slipping free as his jaw shifted askew to hide the rest. He put his face over his hand in embarrassment at the scene. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, this time, rushing off. 


	19. Chapter 19

Katara watched him go. And after he was gone, she stared at the ornate, wooden doors far longer than needed. He wasn’t coming back. She wondered if he ever would, if she’d broken something between them, that fragile, honey-colored state.

She’d been called cold in the past, cold and cruel and calculated. Maybe this was the epitome of it all. Her marriage fell apart because she couldn’t trust anyone to warm her heart. 

But what did it matter? She lost them all in the end. 

Katara grit her teeth against a wave of tears, fighting and fighting until she was out of the foyer and in the private hall of her bedroom. Finally, a sob overtook her and Katara shoved through the first door: the solid oak that led into Sokka’s old room. 

It was a nursery, now. It’d been converted when she was promised to the Fire Nation’s prince, decked out with pastel hues of blue and purple, furnished with rocking chairs, toy boxes, and cribs. Still, it held the familiarity of blue walls and soft, fur rugs. Her brother’s array of swords and wolf headdress were displayed high on a wall as decoration.

Katara sat on the floor beneath them, her legs curled up to her chest. Tears slipped down her cheeks slowly, but steadily, soaking into her leggings. She wanted a hug, but she couldn’t have it. She wanted that baritone laugh, that prideful jesting, that smile that lit up the room, but she’d lost them, _lost him._

She’d lost her mom, too. Zuko and Hakoda were all she had left, and she’d driven one away. How long until the other was gone, too? Katara closed her eyes. 

“What am I supposed to do, Sokka? Tell me what I’m supposed to do.” 

* * *

Zuko’s Heart was breaking. He felt as though his love would never be enough. She could never trust him. She didn’t trust him after all he had given. He hadn’t been enough. She thought his heart and feelings were untrue. She was so shaken by one woman. She went off playing games and toying with his emotions with the guard and then with her treaty nonsense. He was hurt.

But, his gut was twisted with anxiety because he felt guilty too. He felt guilt for being hurt because his head and heart too told him Katara was the one hurting and that he had caused her pain. He hated to think of her upset, especially on his account. Zuko had hidden away in their bedroom, which made things hurt worse.

He thought they were happy. He thought she trusted him. He thought she had faith in him.

He didn’t even want to come out for the Summit dinner tonight. Zuko stated blankly at the wall as his cheeks were dampened.

* * *

If there was one aspect of life she’d never faced, it was addressing her own wrongdoings. As a master waterbender, she was rarely challenged. As a princess, she was hardly questioned. But, her husband had tested her and pushed her during their six months of marriage and Katara had grown… only to regress into the temperamental, jealous girl of her teens.

And she couldn’t get away with it anymore. She couldn’t cast Zuko aside like she did any other lover. She couldn’t wall up behind an icy façade. But she couldn’t very well let him see her like this— tear stained cheeks and puffy, red eyes. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this.

Katara wiped her face clean on her sleeve, smearing the minimal makeup on blue fabric. There was no hope for the signs of crying, but she could, at least, plaster on a blank face and grit her teeth until she found Zuko.

She slipped into the hall, bumping into the guard she’d foolishly flirted with in the foyer. “Oh, Roran—” Katara fought for composure. The man looked concerned, but he didn’t ask and barely reacted. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m wondering if you’ve seen Prince Zuko.”

“He’s in your shared quarters, Princess.”

“Thank you.”  

“Of course, Princess.” Roran bowed, and Katara skirted around him in the direction of her room.

Katara didn’t know what she would say, or what she would do, but she figured she could start with _‘I’m sorry,’_ and find some way to make everything up to him. She was pregnant, after all, and even if she’d permanently pushed Zuko away, their baby needed—

“Princess?” Roran called after her, halting Katara’s train of thought. She turned around, looking at him curiously. He seemed nervous, like whatever he wanted to say went beyond the bounds of princess and guardsman.

“What is it?” she asked.

His throat bobbed, then finally, “You… you deserve happiness.”

“I know,” she said, so quickly and firmly it surprised even her. “ _I am._ It’s normal for couples to fight when there’s more substance than sex and just because— You know what? This isn’t any of your business. Zuko makes me happy, Roran. That’s all there is to it.” 

The guard chewed his lip for a moment, but took her adamance as his signal to leave. The second he was further up the hall, Katara spun on her heel, eager to find Zuko. 

She slammed into the front of Jin. 

“Oh- Oh my god—” The woman scrambled to help, to brush her off. “I’m so sorry. So Sorry. I didn’t expect you. I was looking for—”

“For what?!” Katara pushed Jin off her, her temper flaring to new heights. “ _Fuck!_ Can’t I just see my husband without his desperate-as-fuck girlfriend lurking around? What do you want _,_ Jin? _What do you want!?”_

* * *

Zuko was still lying in their shared bedroom with an aching heart. He felt as though his wife had no faith in him, and he wanted to correct it. For the time being, Zuko fixed himself a cup of chamomile tea of his uncle’s blend. As Iroh had always said, tea couldn’t cure a broken heart, but it could allieviate its symptoms.

Zuko grabbed a book, and was lying on his side as he read through it. It was a classic piece of Southern Tribe folklore literature about a hero who brought the summer back to the South. Zuko was finding it to be a good, and perfectly distratcting, read.

The only thing that pulled him from the story was the unavoidable clamor he heard- and felt- outside. Zuko shot from his bed, startled, tossing the book there as he cautiously crept to the door. That was when he faced Katara shouting at Jin harshly.

Zuko glanced at his wife in concern, and anger. “Katara!” Exclaimed Zuko in alarm. “Stop it!”

Jin was standing back, frazzled by the exchange and clearly taken off guard. Tears welled in her green eyes, and she turned around in shame when they began to spill, rambling apologies as she hid her face with her hand. “I was looking for the wash room… I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I’ll go,” she whispered anxiously, and Zuko pointed her down the corridor and she eagerly scampered off.

That left Zuko crossly facing his wife. “That was uncalled for! She didn’t do anything! You can’t just shout at people like that! You owe her an apology, Katara!”

* * *

“And if I don’t? Are you going to continue scolding me like a child?” Katara crossed her arms over her chest, her lips twisted in a harsh snarl and her features contorted. “She wasn’t invited here. She arrived unannounced in _my_ home to seduce _my_ husband. And I’m supposed to apologize?”

Katara bit down on her lip, then. Anger simmered under her skin, threatening boil over in a display that would crack the walls. She fought to contain it, but it laced her tone and flashed in her eyes.

“I don’t like sharing,” she hissed. “I don’t like watching my husband’s face light up at the arrival of some other woman. I don’t like being forgotten the moment something new and shiny appears in the room. That’s how I felt.” 

“You looked at her like your world had turned on its fucking axis. Your entire being brightened at the sound of her voice and when you hugged her—” Katara gasped, hurt flaring up and gripping her heart in a vice. _“Fuck._ I won’t be spoken to like I’m wrong for feeling the way I do. I’d rather bleed out than feel this way.” 

* * *

“This is a public event, Katara!” Zuko exclaimed, “There are people from all over the world here! You live in a capitol in a palace that is open for the public this week! She just showed up!” Zuko cried. “I didn’t know why she was here any better than you! I hadn’t seen her in seven years! Excuse me for being glad to see an old friend, or yes, she was more than that, sure, but I was glad to see her again after nearly a decade,” Zuko retorted. 

“I talked with her, and she understands now that I’m with you, I’m happy with you, and nothing can change that. There’s no reason to snap at her and make her cry, Kat, just because you’re jealous– which makes no sense, by the way!” he shouted, “And, if it does, then it’s my fault, not hers!” he exclaimed. “If you feel threatened, that’s because of me that I’ve managed to make you feel that insecure in our marriage,” Zuko stated. 

He softened when she said she was hurt, and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Katara. I’m sorry that I haven’t done a better job… or… made it more clear in just how deeply I love you,” Zuko whispered. “There is no one… Jin or anyone else… that could ever threaten how I love you. I was excited to see her, yes, but my face lit up like that when I saw Druk, Katara. It lit up when I saw my friend, Kozo, in town in Ember Island, and I hugged him too, and my uncle, and my cousin… I get excited when I see people I care about again, and yes, I do care about Jin, and if that upsets you, then I’ve done a shitty job giving you any confidence in me,” he admitted. “But, please… don’t take it out on Jin, if you’re angry, take it out on me.”

* * *

“I don’t want to take it out on you, _I like you,”_ Katara grit out, her shoulders slumping in weary defeat. She glanced aside, embarrassed and stubborn. “I didn’t come here to fight. I’m tired of fighting. I came looking for you because…” 

She shrugged, shifting under the weight of Zuko’s stare. If he made her do anything more, expand any more on what she felt, she’d scream. This was enough, her _actually_ apologizing— 

“I came here to tell you that I’m sorry,” she muttered, shuffling her feet. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you before or pushed you away, no matter how upset I was or am. I’m sorry,” Katara repeated, finally meeting his gaze. 

Then she frowned. “But if you make me apologize to Jin,” Katara grunted, albeit playfully, “I know where you sleep, firebender.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled when she said she liked him, his cheeks going flush still. He was glad when she said she was tired of fighting because he was long tired of it. He hated it. 

Zuko stepped in closer towards her, hesitantly, but affectionately. His footsteps and movements were soft and with purpose. He outstretched his arms openly towards her as an offering to accept his embrace. His eyes were gentle and hurt, but blatantly full with love. 

He shook his head at Katara’s apology, pursing his lips as he glanced at their shoes on the ground. “I’m sorry too,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that you felt jealous, really, I am… I– I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job at making you feel more secure, Kat. It’s my fault you got so upset over this,” he whispered, simultaneously meeting her gaze and smirking at her when they did. 

His smirk continued through her teasing, and Zuko sighed. “Katara, I won’t make you apologize… but I think it’s the right thing to do,” he confessed. “But… I– I want you to know that I really am sorry, and… I’ll always love you. I love you. You have absolutely nothing to worry about– ever. You never will.”

* * *

“I know,” Katara whispered. “You don’t either. I can’t see myself _ever_ being interested in Roran again… he's a bit… presumptuous. And— well, anyone from my past, you don’t have to worry.”

She smiled, hesitantly, but it slowly reached her eyes. Katara met Zuko’s embrace in a sudden rush, forcing his breath out in a little gasp as her arms wrapped around his waist. She buried her nose in his chest and sighed happily, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“I don’t like fighting with you. I don’t know why I even picked one…” she muttered shamefully. “I could make an excuse about being tired and stressed, or I could try to blame the pregnancy hormones, but… I don’t know.”

Katara shrugged within Zuko’s arms and lifted her head from his chest. “I was just downright jealous. I _am_ jealous. Knowing that someone else meant something to you, even as teenager… it’s hard now having to look at her.”

* * *

Relief washed over Zuko when Katara slammed into his arms. He laughed brightly, and a tilted smile lit his face. Zuko pressed his cheek to the top of her head, nuzzling against her hair affectionately, feeling so much lighter. It felt as though a physical weight had been pulled off of his heart. 

Zuko rubbed her back as he looked down at her with a tender smile, pecking her nose. “I hate fighting too,” he replied softly. “I was jealous too,” he admitted with a shrug and a small laugh. “I know it was stupid, and you only did it to bug me, but… it worked, I was bugged,” he said with a chuckle. 

“I’m sorry you felt so jealous, Katara,” he apologized again. “I… I don’t ever want you to feel threatened,” Zuko assured her. “I don’t want anyone else. I have more than enough right here… I _love_ you, so please… don’t worry– _ever_ ,” he reassured her, pulling her close again with a sigh of relief, like for a moment he feared losing her. 

“I– I didn’t… I never lied, either… I promise you that. I… you– you were the first woman I slept with… if that matters to you– my first and only, now– and forevermore…” Zuko whispered with a reddened face, averting her gaze until he spoke again. “Nothing in the past could compare to how I feel about you, Katara,” he spoke, blushing as he wore his feelings on his sleeve. “And, there’s nothing that ever can in the future. You– You’re _it_ for me, Katara– you’re _everything_.”

* * *

Katara blushed, but smiled playfully and reached up to cup Zuko’s cheek. “From the way you gawked at me on our wedding night, I’d say it’s obvious I’m your first.” She smirked when his face reddened further, then pecked his lips. “It was still wonderful sex.”

With another kiss, Katara pulled out of Zuko’s arms and waved up the hall. “If you want… the Earth King’s ship is likely in the harbor now. We should go meet him, and your sister, too.  If you want, you can invite Jin.”

“I’m still not apologizing,” Katara added quickly, scowling. “I’ll be civil, but _I’m not apologizing_. It’s just not fair for her to sit in her room all day when there’s so much she could see. She _did_ come all this way for you…” 

* * *

Zuko blushed deeply with a chuckle, and caught up with her down the hall, linking his arm in hers. He was glad that they made up so quickly– wiping away the lingering anxiety. He was already nervous for his presentation at the Summit. 

“I don’t think inviting Jin along is the best idea,” Zuko replied teasingly, “Jin will find a way to wander, I’m sure,” Zuko assured his wife, walking along with her to the harbor to meet up with Azula and the Earth Kingdom prince.

While they walked through the snow, Zuko looked at Katara hesitantly. “I’m nervous, Katara… Azula… she… she doesn’t have the best decorum… er– she… she tends to march to her own beat,” Zuko tried to phrase it politely. “I haven’t seen her since we got sent away,” he admitted. “She’s not my biggest fan,” Zuko mumbled with a huff that fogged in the cold air. 

The couple waited for them in the snow at the dock. The ship had pulled up, and finally, Azula and Prince Jui emerged from the ship’s interior. Zuko held his breath, but feigned the cordial smile expected of him as he bowed. He pitied the Earth Kingdom prince, but the man looked head-over-heels for Azula. They came out laughing and holding hands, and Azula even kissed him and fixed his scarf. 

Zuko all but fell down at the sight.

* * *

“Prince Jui and Princess Azula!” some servant shouted, emerging from the ship behind the seemingly enamored pair. The servant stepped off the gangway, and a larger procession began behind him— guards draped in green, a bear, then a tiny, pompous man, with an emerald crown on his head. 

“And here! His Grace!” The royal announcer waved dramatically, servants threw confetti, and the ship the king left behind sounded off three, ground-shattering blast. “King Kuei!” 

There were several cheers from those in the crowd, though the more weathered Water Tribesmen rolled their eyes. Zuko looked shocked, and Katara leaned in close to him, smirking privately. 

“He’s like this every year,” she said, chuckling. “He actually gets worse… with the display and… ridiculousness. You’ll get used to it. In the meantime,” Katara gestured at Zuko’s sister and brother-in-law, “Introduce me to Princess Azula?” 

* * *

Zuko rolled his eyes at it all. The extravagance was so boisterous simply for his arrival, Zuko had to withhold a giggle. He whispered over to his wife, “I met the king once, never the prince,” Zuko admitted, rolling his eyes, “Seems like I might as well have met them both,” teased Zuko as he stepped forward to speak to his new brother-in-law, and to see Azula for the first time in so long. 

“She’s up to something… there’s no way she’s that infatuated with Prince Jui,” Zuko mumbled to Katara before the prince waltzed over, and Zuko quickly taped his mouth shut. He bowed respectfully to the prince, but not too much so that he was disrespecting his own position. 

“Prince Jui, it’s an honor,” Zuko greeted, then turning to Katara, who already knew the prince, and greeted him. Zuko took a deep breath then, nervously turning to his sister. 

“Azula,” Zuko spoke, not knowing what he was supposed to do. Was he expected to bow in respect now that she was a dual princess? Zuko simply smirked at her, “Hello, Azula, I hope you’re well,” Zuko said with a laugh. “Azula, this is my wife, Katara. Katara, this is my sister, Azula.”

* * *

Katara curtsied, only slightly, her eyes never leaving the green-clad princess and prince. “It’s a pleasure, Princess Azula, Prince Jui.” She straightened, sizing up the couple with mild curiosity. “Welcome to the South Pole.”

The prince smiled, immediately rushing in to take Katara’s hand and gush, “It’s lovely! Splendid! All the snow and the rich blue sea,” he raved, waving about with vibrant enthusiasm. "I’ve seen nothing like it. Absolutely noth—“

“Please, it’s a frozen wasteland.” Azula cut in, arms folded, face bored. Her voice drew horror to Jui’s face and irritation to Zuko’s. "I can see why the Fire Nation Army never wanted to claim it.“

The brazen comment made Katara smirk, “The Fire Nation Army never _won,_ Princess Azula. I can assure you they tried. I bear the scars of their fruitless attempts.”

She eyed the Fire Nation princess with pride. Katara guessed Azula was accustomed to her opponents, both in battle and in words, backing down quickly, even fearing her. But after the horrors she’d seen in her homeland, there wasn’t much left that Katara feared.   

And she made it clear, disregarding Azula’s scornful glare with a shrug. “The South’s also boasts a massive cultural hub, bolstered by trade and tourism, alike.” Katara turned, beginning the walk towards the palace with the visiting royals in tow.

“Our economy is flourishing. Our military is strong. Our alliances are…” Her eyes flicked to Zuko and she smiled. “…wonderful. Wasteland or not, it’s in your best interests to respect my land, Princess.” 

* * *

Zuko was humiliated by his sister’s brutish behavior. She was so… Azula. Of course her time as princess hadn’t humbled her. He was a fool to think anyone alive, even a Spirit, would be able to humble his sister. He was skeptical of her intentions with her husband as well, even though the man seemed so ignorantly smitten with her, and she played her part so well. Zuko knew her better. He knew her since the day she was born, and he knew her well enough to know she was playing some sort of game. There was no way that Azula would act submissively. She would never allow the Earth Kingdom to put her second to the crown prince. She must want all the power for herself, and she would get it too. That worried him.

 

Zuko smiled at the prince, however. He was sure being married to Azula was no easy task– unless Azula was really, really getting into character as the perfect wife. She was the best actress who ever lived. She’d make a star of herself in Ember Island, for sure. Then again, she’d excel at anything she tried, maybe except genuine compassion.

 

Zuko huffed, and linked arms with Katara, heading towards the palace in tow with her. He was stunned at the amount of people there, diplomats from all over. He was proud of Katara– in every sense. He was proud of how she was carrying their baby, he was proud of how well she carried herself, he was proud of her diligence, and he was proud of how she held her ground against Azula of all people. If she could hold herself against Azula’s sharp tongue, Katara could hold herself against anyone or anything.

 

Azula, though, she was no quitter either. She strutted up to catch up with the couple, leaving her husband in the dust. “The Fire Nation surrendered simply because my uncle is weak, not my people, nor my military. You know, my father was brutally murdered by my savage uncle and cousin, and Zuko was in on the plotting. I bet you didn’t know sweet, little Zuzu was a cold-blooded, conspiring-killer, now did you, Princess?”

* * *

Katara almost laughed. The princess was petty, clearly, and Katara wanted to brush it off like she didn’t have the time of day to give, but defensive fury boiled up in her chest and took over. She halted in the street, whirling on Azula.

“Your father deserved to die, as did your grandfather,” she said, flat and cold. “If Zuko, if Iroh and Lu Ten had a part in that, so what? It doesn’t change the fact that they did the honorable thing, ending a war. If that’s _so irredeemable_  to you, Azula—”

She smirked, putting a hand on her hip, “Well, I’m not sure you should be given a say, as I'm beginning to gather that your only redeeming quality is that you’re a female of marrying age.”

Her gaze flicked between Azula and Prince Jui, who seemed oblivious to the contention. Perhaps he was willfully ignoring it.

“Not that there’s anything worth redeeming between the two of you,” she muttered, turning away with a toss of her hair.

“In my tribe, a warrior is considered among the best if he can kill a man without flinching. I, myself, have killed a number of soldiers, both in battle and cold-blood.” Katara glanced sideways as surprise slipped across Azula’s face. The princess quickly hid it away.

“If you’re trying to upset me— try harder, Azula.“ 

* * *

At first, Zuko smiled proudly at her, and his heart warmed at how she came to his defense so adamantly and quickly. He strolled beside her in stride with his head held high on broadened shoulders. He smirked coolly at his sister with a cursory glance of triumph. But, when she spoke again, his mood once more soured.

“There’s nothing _honorable_ about taking people’s lives nonchantly,” Zuko hissed, stopping dead in his tracks in the snow. “It’s not brave to heartlessly slaughter people remorselessly so cutthroat… I don’t find any joy in ending any life. I find it sickening that anyone could make a game out of the necessary tactics of war, the death that made us want the war to end so badly. It’s optimal to take as many cooperative prisoners as possible.”

Zuko met her eyes with unprecedented anger. “I find absolutely no honor in treating _human beings_ as disposable target practice dummies. There is nothing expendable about any human life.”

* * *

Katara hardly flinched, not beneath the heat of Zuko’s gaze and not in the boiling rage rolling off him. “A game? You think my nation’s survival was a game?”

“Let me explain something to you, my dear husband,” her voice dropped low, a threat underlying her tone. “My people and I, we killed on the battlefield. And after, if there were men alive, we’d kill them, too.” 

She watched his eyes go dark, but Katara held her ground, glaring up at him. Maybe it was Azula’s little game, maybe it was working. Or maybe it was that Katara felt protective, defensive of her home— after all, she’d fought so many and lost so much to save it.

Katara growled, “We didn’t have the resources to keep prisoners alive. Are my warriors to starve so the firebenders attacking them can survive? Would you have me sentence my people to death so the men storming our shores and burning child alive will live? Perhaps you think we should’ve spared the ships and the men to send them back to you.”

With a single step, Katara was a hairsbreadth from him. “If you honestly believe that—” 

"You’re no better than the rest of your nation,” she spat, “snubbing your nose in the air, acting like my people are somehow barbaric and savage for   _withstanding a war!”_  

Ice cracked around them, like a shot from a cannon, bouncing off the walls and drowning out her voice. Everyone jumped, even Azula, who looked around at the street and the shops like it was all going to cave in. 

Katara could do it. She could make it happen, open up the ground and send them all to a dark, frozen grave where so many of their kind rotted. She didn’t, though. Some part of her forced itself to be heard— _she loved him._

All Katara could do was snarl. “Get out of my sight, Prince Zuko.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes widened in horror at how proud she was to have blood on her hands. His uncle had blood on his hands, but with it came shame. His uncle was on the wrong side of history, but even when he found himself falsely righteous, he’d always show mercy. He never killed to kill– he never killed out of spite or vengeance– not even after the Earth Kingdom killed his wife, which was what made him realize the err of his ways.  

Zuko scoffed, “There’s nothing _righteous_ about it. My father sent troops to be slaughtered as bait. My army wanted to butcher civilians, women– children,” Zuko spat, his eyes flickering with a hint of rage. “That was disgusting. I don’t care who does it. I don’t care… brutally murdering people in vain is wretched, and there is nothing you say that will have me condone it by anyone,” Zuko snapped. 

“There’s self-defense, and then there’s butchering prisoners– people who surrendered! The North’s rogue troops rape our women, kill our innocent civilian men decades after the war, take our children as slaves, but since our nation’s full of the aggregators– they have to take it! These innocent people who didn’t ask to be born to a nation that’s borne so much blood! –Their blood must be spilled in penance for it!” Zuko spat, furious. 

“It was sick when my people did it… and it’s sick that yours did too. There’s nothing righteous about futile slaughter out of nothing more than bigoted hatred,” Zuko spat, and tears rolled over when she said such prejudiced things. Azula laughed at the sight of his tears, and was blatantly amused at their harsh and heated argument, but Zuko hadn’t the patience to give his sister the time of day.

“No better than the rest of my nation?” Zuko choked out in a breathy, pained whisper, shaking his head among ashamed tears that felt like they pleased her to see now. He shifted his lower jaw to gnaw on his lip, scoffing in hurt disbelief at what he was hearing. “Just _what_ is that supposed to mean, Katara?” he spoke in a breath. “All my people… _these_ people… these innocent people who didn’t choose where to be born, who also suffered from war… those in the war, supporters, the elite– they’re a minority. The Fire Nation people, the farmers, the mercantilists, the artists, the carpenters, the blacksmiths, the welders, the everyday people… they’re good people who didn’t want this war where they were starving– they are not bad, ashmakers, as I hear them called here,” Zuko spoke, wiping his eyes again. 

“That’s what you think of my people… that’s what you’re trying to insult me with now, to hurt me… but what you thought would hurt me– that’s not what hurts me at all,” Zuko admitted. “What hurts me is that you think all the people in my country are these horrid, immoral killers that all had to be slaughtered for the good of humanity,” Zuko spoke, “You thought I was what… some exception? And, now you’re mad so you’re revoking my ‘exception’ status amidst the rest of my kind’s cold-blooded killer title? I’m Fire Nation, Katara,” Zuko spoke, his voice brokenly hollow, but proud. He stood straighter. “I won’t be made to be ashamed of it,” he stated firmly, wiping his face once more before turning away at her bitter command to all but banish him from her sight. 

He got halfway before turning around, “There’s no point in a treaty to merge two nations if the rulers think one country and its people are lesser than the other,” he spoke, then turning back to head inside, crunching through the snow. 

It left Azula, a wide smirk on her face, clapping slowly with a hearty laugh. “Well! What a performance! Zuko always says I put on a good show, but I’ll be damned… that was something else, wouldn’t you say?” Azula asked rhetorically with a laugh, looking between Katara and her husband. “The histrionics are great with my dear brother. The melodrama never fails to entertain– so dramatic! Encore! Encore! Come on, Princess, where’s my act two?”


	20. Chapter 20

“He wasn’t acting,” Katara managed, her voice small as Zuko faded in the crowd. “He’s—”

She had to force herself to breathe. She wouldn’t break before Azula and Prince Jui; she’d hold herself together. Zuko’s snarling words rang in her ears though, making her dizzy and panicked, so panicked her heart was aching as it hit her ribs.

_‘There’s no point in this treaty,’_ he said. And while she’d barked off something similar, she was bluffing and Zuko caught it. This… this he meant, with malice and hatred and all seriousness. He didn’t want to honor the treaty—

On the grounds that she placed her nation above his.

Yet he was the one hellbent on seeing her as a murderess with a lust for innocent blood, just as his nation, his sages, believed of her people. He hadn’t even listened to what she said, hadn’t even registered it. He saw himself as redeemable, as honorable, yet she wasn’t— because she killed men in battle, executed prisoners as tradition and necessity dictated.

Katara grit her teeth, set her jaw in a bid to look strong, and led the pair from the Earth Kingdom to the palace. Zuko wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she didn’t ask and didn’t look. She wasn’t going to grovel at his feet for the restoration of his conditional love.

She skirted around guests with the appropriate nods and greetings, finally vanishing through the servants’ door. Katara followed the plain hall— she was too upset to meet with dignitaries, too shaky to stand upright. They’d understand; her father could tell them she was newly pregnant and worried for the baby.

She slipped into the infirmary at the hall’s end, brushing off the healers as she sank onto a bed. “I’m fine. I just need the privacy. Please… wake me up before the banquet this evening.”

* * *

Zuko’s heart was shattered for the second time this day, but this, he could tell– was far worse. How could this have happened? How could he have gone from overjoyed this morning, to upset, to happy again, and now _broken_. Everything seemed so perfect. He was daydreaming about baby names, and blankets, and a room, and everything. Now, he felt afraid. He knew Katara said they could fight, like a normal couple, and he trusted in that, but it was this particular fight that worried him. It was nasty and gritting, and Azula heard it all. 

He knew she didn’t think _he_ was awful like that. But, she didn’t seem to think too highly of his people. She lumped them all together like they were one, and it hurt him. And he knew he’d spoken too rashly, and hurt her too. He knew it as he fumbled down the hall, not knowing where to go. She wouldn’t want him in their room, and it felt more hers right now. Zuko just wished his uncle would arrive. He’d know what to do. 

He knew too that he was overreacting based on personal grief with the same topic. His father had did this– murdered people in _vain_ like they were cattle in a slaughterhouse. But when he stepped back, thought it through… It made sense– a starving land encased in ice from a harsh winter– how could they keep men alive like that? It’d be cruel, _torture_ even, to starve them like that as prisoners of war. But, he was angry. It reminded him too much of the things his father said that’d made his blood boil as a child– the _reason_ he bore his scar. It took him back too much, and it hurt too deeply to remember. He hated to hear of people being used as tools, and butchered like poultry. The language took him all back, and it wasn’t all fair. 

He was brokenhearted by her words, but knew he’d done his own damage that he already wanted to take back. 

Zuko snuck into the guest room, locking the door behind him, knowing many guest rooms would be filling up. He felt awful. He felt hurt by his wife, and he felt incredibly guilty for hurting her, the day she announced her pregnancy, no less. He felt as much as a monster as she seemed to think his people were for causing such pain to the person he loved the most. Zuko lied his head on the pillow, and blankly stared at the wall until he was notified for the banquet. 

The Summit was in a few days, and without Katara’s encouragement he didn’t know if he could get up and present his ideas. He hadn’t the slightest desire anymore to attend this banquet. His uncle and cousin were still yet to arrive. Zuko was tired, and he slipped on his most regal clothes, stubbornly tying his hair into a topknot with a red band, trimmed in gold– the rest of his clothes blue and appropriate for his true position. 

Zuko sighed, knowing he’d be seated with Katara. He was lead to the banquet hall, made to feign smiles and courteously greet anyone and everyone. He was seated then at the top of the dining table at Katara’s side. She was in the center, and her father beside her. Zuko looked at her worriedly, his gaze apologetic and hurting. When she turned, he averted his gaze back to his empty plate, feeling discouraged entirely– but also still quite upset with her. 

Everyone’s attention turned, however, when Hakoda rose to speak and greet those who’d gathered.

* * *

“Welcome, my esteemed guests.” Hakoda’s booming voice brought silence to the banquet hall. There were hundreds of faces, all different colors and shapes, all looking up at the chieftain. 

Katara glanced at them all, her stomach still twisted up in knots. The part she had to play now that she was the center of attention was making it all worse. She made fists in her lap, staring at them, while Hakoda went on. 

“It is with great honor that we welcome you here today, and it’s with great anticipation that we await the arrival of our final guests, tomorrow.” He paused as a chorus of appreciation rustled around the room. “A short time ago, this would not have been possible. Many of you know how long and hard we fought for this. This was always the dream— a better life, a happy life, for our families and our kids.” 

Katara glanced up when Hakoda put a hand on her back, plastering a smile on her face to match his. 

“Of course, none of this would’ve been possible without our kids… though, they’re all grown now.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, his eyes crinkling around the edges with happiness and affection. 

Katara wanted to hug him. She didn’t have the safe, hidden place she’d found in Zuko, not right now. But her dad’s feelings for her never wavered. He was always proud, always soft and kind and loving. 

Her smile slowly turned real as Hakoda pet her hair, then reached for his wine glass.

“Let’s toast them, shall we? To Katara and Zuko, Yue and Lu Ten, and their coming children.” Hakoda lifted his drink, nodding graciously to Katara and Zuko, then Cheif Arnook, who sat at the far end of the table. “And Princess Azula and Prince Jui, who have solidified the peace in the Earth Kingdom.” 

He raised his glass. Katara circumvented her untouched wine for a cup of tea, but it was her gesture that counted. The rest of the room followed, clinking glasses together and taking sips. 

Katara kissed her father’s cheek as he sat and she toasted with him. Then she turned to Zuko, briefly meeting his gaze before clinking her tea against his cup of whiskey. She had to before the guests asked questions. 

When she straightened in her seat, Hakoda lifted his cup to the crowd one more time. “Let’s eat!” he called, smirking. “Just… stay away from the sea prunes if you know what’s good for you.” 

* * *

Zuko admired Hakoda. He always lead with a level head, and knew just what to say. The room felt warm, and this situation, that once seemed so impossible, felt so right in this moment. Zuko hoped that when the time came, he could be as good a person to look to as Hakoda. He’d never have any true power, but he’d still be looked to as the chieftess’ husband. He hoped he could do Hakoda proud. Zuko smiled at the man, raising his glass to his as they both smiled, and Zuko was glad he’d found him, found this man he’d come to love as family. 

His heart hurt then thinking of the bad blood that lingered between himself and his wife. Zuko tapped his glass against Katara’s, not being able to hold in his smirk when he saw her swap her alcohol for tea. He let out a shaky sigh, thinking of their future family, and convinced himself that they’d make up eventually, and things would be okay. 

Fighting in couples reminded him of pain, hurt– conclusions. But, his only true example growing up was his parents who were anything but a paragon. They were nothing like his parents. They would talk through it. They’d be okay– wouldn’t they? Zuko had to count on it because otherwise he didn’t know how he’d go on here– with her, but not really having her anymore. But mostly, because he loved her, thick and thin, and couldn’t bear the thought of losing her regardless. 

Zuko laughed, and the knee-jerk reaction to look at Katara ensued before he quickly realized they still weren’t speaking, and looked away. The food was brought out, and everyone spent the day in laughter. It was heartwarming, seeing people from all over the world enjoying a meal at a table together, when only years ago, there was a war. It was amazing how things changed so quickly.

The dinner banquet was a smashing success. People stayed, drinking and laughing into the wee hours of the night. Finally, the stringband died down, and people left the banquet to crawl into their beds. Zuko was drunk himself, and all but forgot how angry he was at Katara, and how livid she was with him too. By the end of the night, Hakoda was standing at the door, bidding people farewell, but he looked pallor. He had a chair pulled up, and he was out of breath. 

Zuko kissed Katara, rubbing her belly before whispering in her ear, “Goodnight, love, I’m going to head off to bed,” mumbled Zuko. He then headed to the exit, stopping to say goodnight to his father-in-law. 

“Goodnight, Zuko, I hope you had a good time,” Hakoda said with a smirk, standing shakily to hug him. 

“I did,” replied Zuko, putting a hand on his forearm as they pulled back from their embrace. “Are you all right, Hakoda?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m just tired– probably too much to drink,” Hakoda jested with a warm laugh. “I’m too old for all this partying all night! Not like you and Katara,” Hakoda said with a wink in his daughter’s direction. He turned back to Zuko in warm seriousness. “Though, we know she can’t be drinking right now… I’m very glad it was you who married my daughter, Prince Zuko. You’re a wonderful man. Thank you, Zuko, thank you for being so good to her,” Hakoda said warmly. “I’m so happy you’ve found your place here— I’m so happy you’re a part of my family.”

Zuko smiled warmly, touched by Hakoda’s words. “Thank you, Hakoda,” Zuko replied genuinely, smiling. “I– I’m not so sure I deserve all that… but I– I’m very happy that I married your daughter, too. I’m so glad to be a part of your family. Goodnight, Hakoda… you– you did great,” Zuko assured him, and Hakoda squeezed Zuko’s shoulder affectionately before Zuko turned around to head off to he and Katara’s shared bedroom and call it a night, leaving Hakoda turning to his daughter with a warm smile. 

* * *

Katara approached her dad with a tired smile and took his hand when he offered it. “Did I wear you down with all the dancing?” 

“Perhaps,” he joked. “I’m not as spry as I used to be. But someone had to pair up with you, my dear.” Hakoda patted her hand, and the pair started down the hall, away from the milling, drunken guests. 

“I noticed you were avoiding Zuko.” He gave Katara a look, one that she ignored. Hakoda huffed under his breath, swallowing heavily. “Katara, darling, please tell me you’re alright. Tell me he’s good to you. Is he _really_ good to you?”

She softened almost instantly. “Dad…” 

Katara stopped in the hall, taking in her father’s face. They were near his bedroom, which was the furthest from the banquet hall, but it wasn’t so far that he should be breathing this hard. She tilted her hand, squeezing his shoulder as Hakoda caught his breath. 

“We’re fine, okay? We fought a bit today, about…” she shrugged, growing more concerned with Hakoda’s tired state. Katara tried to brush past the subject. She wanted him in bed. “It’s an arranged marriage, Dad. We have a lot of… I don’t know…  _differences._ You know how these things are.” 

Hakoda nodded, “I do. I do.” 

When he rubbed his chest and coughed, dry and hacking, Katara wondered if he was getting sick. A bout of the flu had torn through the servants’ ranks; maybe her father was coming down with it, too. Katara reached up to feel his forehead, but Hakoda waved her off.

“Talk to him, my love. The worst thing you can do is keep it bottle up,” Hakoda advised softly, cupping her cheek. His thumb was calloused and familiar on her jaw, but colder than it should be. “Resentment will build, and that’s—” 

Hakoda coughed again, harder than before. His hand went to his mouth, covering his lips, and he braced himself on the wall. “That’s worse than—”

When he pulled his hand away, Katara saw blood.

“Dad, are you—” As she shouted in surprise, Hakoda stumbled, wretching and clutching at his heart. His rich, mocha skin was turning pale and grey, glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat as he fought for balance. 

Katara caught him, taking on his weight with a grunt. _“Dad!_ Help me!” She hollered for a guard, and the two of them carried the chieftain between them, helping him through the doors of his room. 

“What’s wrong with him?” the guard shouted. 

They laid Hakoda down on his bed. He was ashen, sweating, his eyes half-closed and rolled back. The veins in his neck strained in silent agony as labored breaths panted through his teeth. 

“K-Katara— Katara, _ugh—”_ Hakoda grabbed her, trembling, weak. “Katara, please. It-It’s—”

Katara pulled his tunic open, going to work immediately, her fingertips gloved in water and tracing his chest. It could be a heart attack, a stroke, something in his lungs— she didn’t know, and the water wasn’t telling her a thing. 

“What’s happening?” The guard hovered, fretting. “Princess, what’s—”

“I don’t know!” she snapped, looking up from her father’s feverish skin. Fear threatened to drown her, but Katara swallowed it. “Go get the other healers. Quickly. And don’t tell anyone! We don’t need a panic.” 

As the man scurried off, Katara cooled Hakoda’s forehead with glowing water, “It’s going to be alright, Dad. You’re going to be alright.” 

* * *

Zuko had stammered off to their bed, but it wasn’t nearly as warm or comforting as usual. He missed Katara. He missed her crawling in beside him late at night, and having her beside him to hold, and kissing her goodnight. It felt like they were leagues apart, and that it’d been days instead of hours. He hoped she’d come to bed, and that they could talk about this soon– make up soon. 

When alone, even less-than-sober, he remembered their cutting fight. Zuko remembered the harsh words spat by them both as he sat in the bath for far too long. He changed into his thick, woolen pajamas, still hoping she’d come in, but in vain. Zuko sighed deeply, and climbed beneath the mounds of covers, still hoping he’d hear her footsteps and creak of the door.

* * *

There was blood. 

And it forced her back thirteen years, to a frigid hut and black snow, to evil, yellow eyes and a lash of fire. To a snarl. A scream. She ran, as fast as she could, as fast as her little legs would allow over blood-stained ice and maimed bodies. 

_Daddy!_

She never reached him in time. Not then; not now—

“Dad? Dad, you’re alright. I promise you’re alright.” Katara tried to calm herself. He needed her. _Like Mom had needed her._

Only this time would be different, right? This time she’d be strong enough, brave enough, quick enough. She’d stop the monster from burning her mother alive—

Wait. No. There was no monster, not a physical one. Katara blinked away tears, dragging her thoughts into the present. 

There was only her father, choking on blood, rolling over in a thrash of limbs and screaming. So much screaming. _It hurts. It hurts! Katara, it—_ He vomited up more blood, soaking the bed and the floor with every heave. 

Something was burning him up from the inside, incinerating his veins, turning his life force to melted red, sending it up and out, like boiling water over a fire. And she couldn’t find the source; she couldn’t stop it. Katara only had her guess and her gut—

It was poison. _Night Lily._ She’d seen it kill before. It must’ve been in his food or his wine; now, it was in his blood. There was no halting it, she knew that deep down. Once symptoms showed, the victim was all but dead. _Might as well let them go._

But, she fought. Tui and La, Agni above, _she fought._

“Daddy, _please…”_

Her grief fueled her. She didn’t need the moon. Katara searched through his veins, took power over his arteries, stopped the toxin where she found it, repaired the damage as she could. 

It never seemed to be enough, even as the healers poured over him, even as he clung to her dress, whispered laboriously and cried her name: “I love you. Katara, I love you. My beautiful daughter. My beautiful, perfect daughter.”

Even as she pumped his heart for him, begged him: “Dad. Daddy, _keep breathing._ ”

Someone touched her shoulder, murmured those soul-wrenching words: 

“Princess. He’s gone.” 

They cleaved her open. _Gone._ He couldn’t be, but he was. His heart only moved because she moved it. His skin was only warm because she drew his blood through his veins. 

Katara looked down at him, at his blue eyes that no longer saw her, at his red lips that formed her name, even in death. Her tears poured from her cheeks, splattering onto his. She brushed her fingers through his hair, then over his eyelids. 

And as the oceanic blue disappeared, Katara broke. 

* * *

“Zuko was disappointed, but not surprised when he woke up alone with untouched covers. He sighed, getting up and throwing his legs over the bed. Zuko got dressed in his formal attire for the day for the special ocassion, and peeked through the curtains to see the sun rising. It was beautiful, and he never got over how the sunrise made the snow glisten. It was one of the many things he’d fallen in love with about the South Pole. 

Zuko then headed down to the kitchen, and it was so early, even no servants were up and about. Things were quiet, and Zuko liked the silence. It gave him time to think, enjoy his tea, and read a book before anyone stirred. 

Zuko fixed himself some eggs for breakfast, and made tea. He then grabbed the Water Tribe book he’d been working on, and headed to the parlor room he always sat in. It had the largest window with the prettiest view and a nice, cozy fireplace. 

He was surprised when he walked in to see it already alit. Azula was there. Zuko rolled his eyes, but sat down anyway with his cup of tea. “Good morning, dear sister,” Zuko sarcastically mumbled, but he smirked softly. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, dumb-dumb,” grumbled Azula, but she sipped at her own already, and Zuko rolled his eyes once more. “Did you make up with your peasant wife yet?”

“No, no thanks to you,” Zuko grumbled back, unamused. “I guess you and your beloved Prince Jui have no troubles…”

“Of course not, I’m perfect in every way, so what is there for him to put up any fuss over,” Azula quipped back. 

Azula hadn’t changed a beat. 

“It wasn’t exactly _him_ that I thought might be the trouble.”

* * *

There were a thousand thoughts running through Katara’s mind: 

She should alert the guard, inform the council. She should lock the city down, go hunting for the murderer. She should find her grandmother, tell her that her only son had died, let her mourn the loss of her child. She should speak to Pakku, have him oversee the tribe so she could run. 

She should _get up._

But that was just it. _She couldn’t._

No matter the noise beyond the walls of her father’s room— servants bustling by, none the wiser; guests chatting amiably as the palace awoke, stuck in their peaceful naivete. Katara could hear the city come to life, smell the cookfires, hear the clang of bells and bellow of animals through the small window her father always left cracked. 

Still, she didn’t move, didn’t look towards the sounds or the rising sun. 

Maybe Zuko was up. The brief thought of him made Katara remember his uncle and cousin. They were due soon. She thought she heard blasts from a ship’s horn in the harbor. Zuko was likely having tea, or dressing, or already on his way down to greet his family. 

She didn’t need to go with him; he could tell Iroh she was sick, or just be truthful as say they were fighting. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care. How was she supposed to tell any of them? 

Katara closed her eyes, fresh tears leaking past her lashes. The pillow beneath her cheek was damp with them; her nose was stuffed and her muscles were stiff. 

She’d cried all night beside her father’s body, even when she thought there were no tears left. More came, they always came. All it took was a memory or a thought or the cusp of dream— He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t pale. He was alive and happy and full of vibrance, warm in both body and spirit.  _He wasn’t gone_.

* * *

Zuko took another long sip of his tea, leaning back on the sofa. Azula scrutinized his every move like she was planning something. She smiled like she knew something. It made Zuko incredibly skeptical, or perhaps paranoid. Though, he thought he was warranted in his paranoia of her. She’d always been two steps ahead, and looking back with a smirk over her shoulder. She always had the upper hand and wielded it full of fire.

“That peasant doesn’t love you, at least not any longer,” Azula said casually, heating her tea. 

“You don’t know _anything_ , Azula. Couples have arguments, even bad ones. We’ll muddle through,” Zuko retorted sharply in vexation. What the hell did Azula of all people know about marriage?

She simply laughed, and it made Zuko uncomfortable, and he was mad it did because he knew damn well that she was elated that he was unnerved. That was half the reason she did it. 

“That stupid fight isn’t why she no longer loves you, Zuzu. You’ll learn soon enough,” Azula said coldly and cryptically. Zuko looked at her like she was mad, but just then, a smiling servant swept into the room. 

“Prince Zuko, Princess Azula, your uncle and cousin have arrived!” called the servant, and Zuko smiled brightly. He laughed, and set down his tea, rushing to the main entrance. 

“Uncle!” Cried Zuko, almost leaping into the old man’s arms as his sister stood back inspecting her polished nails. 

Iroh laughed heartily, pulling his nephew close as he patted his back. “Nephew! You look well. I’m so happy to see you, and be here in the South Pole, even if I’m freezing!” Iroh said with a warm grin. 

Lu Ten smiled, and embraced his cousin and Yue followed suit. She was holding their baby named Noatuck. Zuko eyes alit at the little baby. 

“Yue, Lu Ten, he’s beautiful, congratulations,” Zuko whispered, his finger delicately stroking the baby’s smooth skin.  He laughed at how precious the baby was as Yue handed him over to his second cousin. 

“I couldn’t be happier,” Iroh spoke with a grin. 

Zuko smiled at Lu Ten as Zuko rocked the baby in his arms, and it reminded him of his own wife’s pregnancy– and how cruel he’d been the day before. Zuko swallowed thickly, kissing the baby’s forehead. “He’s perfect.”

“You bet he is!” Lu Ten boasted with a cheeky grin. “That’s our little prince, our little Noatuck,” Lu Ten warmly bragged. 

“He looks like a filthy rodent,” Azula spat from behind, her arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall. Everyone glanced back at her, but then ignored her, chatting on away about the baby– and the Summit. 

Zuko then offered everyone breakfast and tea, leading them to the dining room while Zuko had the servants prepare a hearty breakfast, and he didn’t want to wake her, but he was hoping Katara would come down soon to greet them. He was anxious to talk things through with her. 

* * *

Katara had to move eventually. There were traditions to honor, customs to follow to honor the dead— She needed to have her father’s body prepared, dressed for the final voyage out to sea. She needed to tell someone.

Only the healers and a handful of high-ranking guards knew, and she’d sworn them to silence through the night. She wanted the time to mourn without the distractions and the insistent voices telling her what to do, what steps to take. Katara knew them all. Hakoda had prepared her for this day, though neither of them believed it would happen.

Slowly and stiffly, Katara lifted her head from the pillow. She let go of her father’s cold hand, swallowed at the emptiness in her soul, and kissed his cheek. 

_No more tears,_ she told herself, bravely swinging her legs off the bed and standing. Katara felt unsteady, but she squared her shoulders, set her jaw, and padded to her father’s door. 

“Please send for the coroner,” she told the guard. “Have him dress my father in the proper funeral garments and send a few men down to the bay to prepare his ship. And keep quiet,” Katara said. “I’ll spread the word slowly through the city before the chieftain is sent out to sea at moonrise, but for now, I’d like to keep the matter within the palace.” 

The man nodded, turning to leave. Katara grabbed his sleeve before he could go. “Have my grandmother and Pakku returned from Whale Tail Island?” 

“They’ll be here this afternoon, Prin— _Chieftess.”_  

Katara pressed her lips together— _Don’t cry. Chiefs don’t cry—_ and nodded. “I want them brought here directly, without a word of what’s happened. I have to be the one to tell Kanna her son has died.” 

“Yes, Chieftess,” the guard bowed and hurried off. 

Katara slipped back into her father’s room, her gaze flicking over Hakoda’s body one last time. Her eyes drifted to his favorite chair, where his fur cloak was strewn. She took the garment, pulling it around her shoulders before straightening her hair and leaving the bedroom behind. 

The coroner, flanked by a healer and a guard, bowed to her in the hall. They slipped into the room, closing the door, and Katara stared at the polished wood for a moment longer, gathering her courage. 

She couldn’t stall anymore. Surely Zuko was asking questions, and his family was here, only punctuating her distinct absence. Katara took a deep breath, her hands curling into fists at her sides, and finally, she made the long, deliberate walk to the tea parlor where her husband and in-laws were gathered. 

“Zuko,” she whispered, solemn, blue eyes meeting his. “Zuko, can I speak to you?” 

* * *

Zuko was entertaining his family in the tea room, laughing warmly with his uncle. He was asking advice on how to reconcile with Katara. He couldn’t bear to keep this distance. He missed her terribly already, and he was eager to inform his uncle of the news that Katara was pregnant, but he didn’t want to do it without her. 

He heard her voice call his name softly suddenly, then. Zuko turned his head, surprised she’d finally come down and called for him. He was happy to hear from her until he saw her face. She looked a wreck. Her eyes had deep circles under them, her eyes were bloodshot, and her gaze was broken. Her cheeks were puffy and red. She looked utterly devastated, but he could tell she was trying to put up a brave front. 

Zuko dropped everything. He went to her, leaving any inane arguments at the door. He didn’t want to be the reason she was so upset, but he didn’t want something worse to have occurred either. Zuko rushed over, taking her forearms in his hand with a tender squeeze, watching her in deep concern as he walked her over to a more private room. 

“Love, what’s the matter?” Asked Zuko, shaking his head in worry. “Are you all right? You look so upset, Kat. Please, I’m sorry, talk to me,” urged Zuko, running his hands up and down her arms before his uncle rustled through the door, and pulled Katara into a bear hug. 

“Princess Katara! My dear, dear niece-in-law! How are you?” Iroh spoke, practically crushing her in an embrace as Zuko watched from behind, his features still contorted in concern. 

Azula side-stepped them from behind, an icy look in her eyes, and an Earth Kingdom servant lingering behind, looking stunned out of her mind. Zuko watched them cautiously, always skeptical of his sister. 

The servant pulled on Azula’s sleeve, looking mortified. “Princess Azula… I- I thought you took care of both of them? Did you get the other?” she hissed, and Zuko turned to look at them with a gaze sharper than a knife. 

* * *

Katara was still wrapped up in Iroh’s embrace, barely holding onto her sanity, when the hissed words between Azula and the servant girl echoed off the walls. She could tell she wasn’t meant to hear; she could see the servant girl was going to die for it— The look in Azula’s eye was so sick, so sinister. 

A shiver ran down Katara’s spine. She broke away from Iroh, her breath short and gasping, her stomach twisted up. It was falling into place, her mind slowly grasping at the reality of Hakoda’s death and cause of it.

“Why?” she asked, her heart shattering further, crumbling in her chest. “Why did you do it?” 

Azula shrugged. “This treaty is a sham.” 

“For reasons unknown to us all, this heap of dung you call home, little peasant Princess, is the world’s greatest power… a position once held by the Fire Nation and its military.” The princess cocked a brow, her expression cold and unfeeling, almost mocking of Katara’s pain. “I’m simply trying to restore what belongs to—” 

“—He was _my dad!”_ Katara shouted, tears reappearing and spilling down her cheeks. “He was all I had left, and y-you killed—” 

“Yes, yes…” The Fire Nation princess feigned a yawn, “If only you’d had your wine, too. I wouldn’t have to listen to all this… _whining.”_  

A cruel smile spread across her face. Everyone else in the room looked stunned, not understanding. Then, Azula lunged, faster than anyone expected. Iroh tried to deflect her, but he crumbled to the ground in a blast of blue fire. Lu Ten moved, but only to shield his wife and baby. Zuko shouted something, like he knew what his sister meant to do, but Katara…

Katara was rooted to the spot. And it was like slow motion, like trying to run through water— the air cracked, white light flashed, her lips parted with a silent cry.

_It doesn’t matter,_ she told herself. _Let the lightning kill me. I’ll be with my family._

* * *

_‘–He was my dad!’_

Those words pierced the room like a cannon boom. Zuko’s heart clenched in his chest, and he gasped. He was mortified. He was struck with grief he wasn’t even capable of processing so quickly. Hakoda was dead. The man he spoke to last night, who’d welcomed him so lovingly into his home, who had such faith in him, the grandfather to their future child, the smiling, kind, generous, loving, warm man– was dead? –Killed by his sister? Zuko’s eyes filled with tears, and contempt and disgust flared in his visage as he glared at his sister with vile hatred.

Zuko’s hand outreached towards his wife in a reflexive urge to comfort her. –Azula had tried to kill his wife too. Zuko’s watering eyes widened once more, and he caught Azula’s keen look. His uncle knew it too– Lu Ten knew it. Iroh leapt up, trying to block her shot– her aim, and everything was happening so quickly Zuko could hardly comprehend it, hardly breathe. He shot up, seeing Lu Ten shield Yue and Noatuck, and Zuko had to shield his own… at any cost. 

“– _ **No!**_ ” screamed Zuko as Azula’s two finger point targeted Katara. The newfound queen was all but chained to the ground. Katara was frozen in fear, and Zuko’s fear was what motivated him to move. All he could think about as he leapt forward was that she couldn’t die. He loved her, and she could not die. 

Zuko used what his uncle taught him to redirect part of the lightning, but he couldn’t angle himself, he couldn’t get in the proper position, and he only shot what he could through the roof– a fire ensuing– shaking the entire palace as furniture crumbled around them. 

The pain was incomprehensible. It made his father’s burn to his face feel like a pinch. He could hardly think, hardly move, hardly breathe. The time he was flung in air felt like eons. Finally, Zuko went spiraling back with the force of Azula’s lightning, smashing against the wall, and crumbling to the floor. 

Everything was muffled then, and Zuko crumbled up in pain, gasping for breath as his fingers dug into the wood. He couldn’t breathe. His whole body was convulsing in sheer agony, and his vision was blurred. His ears were ringing from the deafening blow, and he struggled to move. The only thing he could process was protecting Katara. Azula was out for her, and he wished he could move– go to her– he reached for her, but as he attempted to move, he hit the ground again with a thud. 

He wanted to beg Lu Ten to save her. He wanted to cry to his uncle to protect her. But, he was stuck there– dying. If he died it would be all right, so long as she lived. He’d have given her her heir, and she could lose the shame of having a Fire Nation husband after his own sister butchered their king. As long as Katara lived, he didn’t give a fuck about anything else. 

Zuko lied on the floor, twitching as he felt the electricity run through his veins, stunting his heart. He could feel it beating slower and slower as he gasped for each breath as if he was drowning. None of this felt real, it all happened so fast. Hakoda was dead; Azula tried to kill Katara; the last memories she’d have of him would be a fight; he was going to die within the next ten minutes. 

Blood leaked from Zuko’s mouth as he coughed profusely, all the while struggling for breath and trembling. He could only hear muffled sounds and screams– booms. This couldn’t be real– none of this could happen. Azula couldn’t do this. How could she do this? 

“ _Katara,”_ Zuko choked out desperately, tears spilling over his numbed and bloody face. “I love you, Katara,” Zuko choked out, not even knowing if his voice was audible, or if anyone was even around. “I’m sorry. Pl– Please forgive me,” he begged, gasping once more. 

“– _Katara_.”

* * *

It happened so quickly. 

She was going to die, then she didn’t. Zuko took her place, jumping, screaming, slamming into the wall as the white-hot light left his body with a thunderous sound. The palace shuddered and cracked, wood catching flame around them. 

Katara may’ve forgotten how to value her own life, but she valued them— her family, her people. 

Another bolt of lightning burst into being, hurtling towards her. Katara ducked and rolled. Her eyes flicked to Zuko; the movement of Azula recaptured her attention. Katara caught a wave of flame in ice, bursting to her feet and sending the ice forward. It shattered and fanned out like darts, forcing Azula to defend herself. 

While the princess was throwing up her guard, Katara advanced, throwing ice, drowning her in water, battering Azula with her harsh, unrelenting element.

She didn’t have the moon. She didn’t have an endless water source. She didn’t have an advantage of any sort. It was morning, the firebender was strong, demented, and cruel. 

But Katara was angry and in pain, and Pakku had always said there was no force that could reckon with raging waves and rain. The ocean claimed lives like it owned them, vicious and ruthless and uncaring. 

For the first time, Katara could understand. She had Azula on edge, coming undone. The pain she felt for the loss of her father, her entire family, made Katara strong. The very second the princess fumbled, Katara acted, pulling ice up around them both. 

They were frozen, only their eyes mobile. She could see rampant fear spreading in Azula’s, and Katara thought—

Maybe the ocean had lost everything she loved. Maybe the ocean was fighting back because her cutthroat bloodlust was the only way she didn’t feel numb. She captured souls because it made her feel alive. 

—but, she couldn’t do it. It’d only be a temporary fix, sweet, short-lived revenge, and like the ocean, Katara would have to kill again and again to even try at feeling whole. 

She released a breath, allowing herself movement. Pushing forward in the prison of ice, Katara put a thumb on Azula’s forehead and another on her chest. It was hard without the moon, but she cut the ties between blood and chi, severing the princess’s connection to fire. 

The ice shifted to water. They both fell to the floor, sopping wet. Katara got up quickly, coughing, and captured Azula in a new case of ice, this time from the neck down. Then she left Azula, rushing to Zuko’s side. 

“I’m here,” she murmured, laying her hands on his chest. Water started glowing, started mending burned flesh. “Zuko, I’m here. I’ve got you. I love you, too.” 

* * *

Zuko was hardly aware of his surroundings. There was only muffled movement, the crinkling of falling walls and insulation. He could smell his own skin incinerating and making him nauseous. The only thing he was aware of was pain– physical and emotional pain. He wanted to help, he wanted to protect her, but he was useless, lying here dying as blood spluttered up from his throat. The next thing he was conscious of, Azula was thrusting and shouting like mad and he saw her struggling, encased in ice, and he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t melt it. 

Zuko finally felt warm hands touching him, and a cool feeling enclosed the wound– and his gaze flickered weakly. His eyelids were wobbling, and his body was luring him to rest– eternally. He could see his uncle’s face, and his cousin, and he felt hot tears hit his face. He hadn’t a clue who they belonged to. 

Zuko weakly reached up to cup his wife’s cheek, and tears of his own spilled. His bloody lip jutted out and he inhaled shakily and sharply, struggling to breathe. “I’m _sorry_ ,” choked Zuko, “For all I said. I- I didn’t mean it, pl-please,” Zuko whimpered desperately, choking harshly on thick clots of blood. 

His fingers weakly curled against her skin, “Forgive me,” he begged, his voice weak, but desperate as tears slowly trailed his pallor skin. “Katara, I love you,” he spoke. “I love you,” he repeated weakly, his hand trailing down to her stomach, “Tell… tell the baby I love him, please,” he murmured as he struggled again for a breath. He could feel himself slipping away, but her healing touch was slowly easing the worst of it. 

Zuko took another deep breath, and his hand fell suddenly and limply to his side before he exhaled deeply. He fell unconscious from the pain, and Iroh screamed, thinking his nephew had died, “Zuko!” shouted the old man, turning to Katara with sheer desperation in his eyes– the entirety of their worlds being flipped upside down.


	21. Chapter 21

Katara kept her hands on Zuko’s wound, healing him, and consoled Iroh and Lu Ten as she worked. The prince wasn’t dead, not yet, and she’d keep him alive if it was the last thing she did. 

She sent Yue to find the guards and Cheif Arnook, and when the company arrived, Katara ordered Princess Azula to the prison hold within the palace, watched by guards around the clock. She left the Northern chief in charge for the time being, knowing she’d be useless as chieftess until Zuko was stable. 

With the help of Lu Ten and Iroh, Zuko was taken to the infirmary. Instantly, healers were swarming him, pulling away his clothes and looking over the lightning’s damage. Katara waved them away. 

“Let me work,” she said firmly. She wanted the distraction, something to do with her hands. It’d keep her world from crashing down. “Let me work on him. I can heal him. Tend to Iroh’s burns. And you, make sure Lu Ten’s son is alright.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes fluttered open slowly and he took in his surroundings. Everything was white, and he slowly came to. His head was throbbing, and things were blurry, very gradually coming into focus as his memory raced back in a horrifying rush. Zuko’s breath was shallow, and he was stripped at a hospital bed. Finally, his eyes met Katara. 

“ _Katara_ ,” whispered Zuko, trying to speak normally, but he was too weak. His entire body was still throbbing and shaking with pain. He was so feeble he could hardly move. He reached for her, but he was too weak in his injured state, his body still betraying him– still teetering on the thin line of life and death, with his life in his wife’s healing hands.

“Uncle…? Lu Ten…? Their baby? Are they… they… they ok… okay?” Zuko mumbled in a dazed ramble, still struggling for his breath. He reached for her then, sitting up stubbornly, but he winced sharply, and fell back down– catching his breath. 

“You– You… are you okay? Are you hurt?” Zuko asked desperately, reaching for her. He frowned then deeply, reaching for her hand, and when he found it he gave her a weak squeeze, which he meant to be strong. “Hakoda… he… he’s gone?” Zuko asked, a tear rolling down his face. “I’m sorry,” choked Zuko, still lost in what was going on exactly. He didn’t know if Azula was dead, too. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know if the whole nation was under seize. He didn’t know if he’d live or die himself. He didn’t know if he’d be banished. He didn’t know anything, except he knew he loved her. 

More tears spilled and Zuko shook his head in immense pain and delirious confusion, “I love you.”

* * *

_“Shhh…_ Zuko, it’s okay,” Katara whispered, pausing her work for a moment to cup his cheek. She offered a small smile; it didn’t meet her eyes, but it was better than letting him see the storm brewing in her thoughts. 

Every part of her ached. Physically, she was worn down. Her arms were sore from trying to help her father, scratched where his nails had dug into her skin. She was burned and bruised from the fight with Azula, but with Zuko’s ailing condition, healing herself was hardly a priority. 

Emotionally… she wondered if she’d _ever_ heal. 

Her entire family was gone, slain at the hands of the Fire Nation. She was alone and empty, so empty. Katara couldn’t describe the feeling in her chest, the clawing void that her father’s laugh, her brother’s smile, and her mother’s warmth used to fill.

She still had her husband, at least, but he was fading under her fingertips. She fought to keep him… because he had his uncle and his cousin and she _needed_ him after this. 

Katara swallowed, fighting the urge to break. She just needed Zuko to remain stable, then she could busy herself with the guests, with spreading the word, and with her father’s funeral. She could hide when it was all over, and build the walls up around her heart. 

Tears built along her lash line, and Katara let her smile fall with a weary, worn out sigh. She brushed Zuko’s hair from his forehead, then coaxed fresh water over his chest, calming slightly when he let a breath go in relief. 

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s all going to be okay.” 

* * *

Zuko swallowed thickly as she eased him down, caressing his skin. “You’re not,” he choked out, tears falling more steadily as he shook his head in exhaustion. “You’re- You’re not okay,” Zuko declared weakly, reaching for her face as his fingers gently grazed over her lips, trying to comfort her. “Let me– Let… let me help you,” pleaded Zuko, but he was too frail to hardly even keep his eyes open, and his eyelids pleaded with him to let them shut.

They fluttered closed and Zuko’s hand fell limp at his side. The prince’s breaths were laborious and in between, but thanks to Katara, his lungs still were filled with air, and his heart did still beat. If it weren’t for her, he would have been dead hours ago. 

Zuko thought about Hakoda– and how he was gone. His heart ached knowing that his father-in-law was dead, and his heart was broken for his wife. His people had taken her whole family. His family took away every one of hers, yet she still hovered over him in her grief, fighting for his life. Zuko choked on a sob then, soaking in all that happened, and was happening. 

His sister killed his wife’s father, her last living family member, and she’d tried to kill his wife twice, and now she might kill him. He was dying– in so much pain, and the world was now in shambles, and Katara was _still_ helping him. Despite all the horrid things he said to her yesterday, she was here. Her father was dead at his sister’s hand, and she was _here_. 

“I’m so sorry, Kat,” Zuko choked out. “I love you, and– and I’m _here_ , but I wish I could _do_ something… Agni, I’m so fucking _sorry_.”

* * *

“You don’t need to do anything, Zuko. I just need you to lie still.” She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Every time you move, you split the wound open and an infection is the last thing you want.” 

Katara gave him a lingering look, then her fingertips skimmed down his chest, delicately inspecting the burn. She spent just a few more minutes focused on the superficial damage and his pain, then shifted her attention deeper, tending to his heart. 

It wasn’t anything she couldn’t heal. It’d take some time. He’d be weak for a while, probably confined to his bed, but he’d live. That’s all that mattered. Azula wouldn’t claim two victims in a matter of hours. 

“Chieftess?” A light rap at the door marked the entrance of a guard. Katara barely glanced up from her work. “Your grandmother has arrived. She’s… asking some questions. Fire Lord Iroh is sitting with her and Pakku, but she wants you.” 

“Okay, just a minute.” 

Katara withdrew her hands from Zuko, then waved a healer over, giving instructions and ordering the woman to find her if anything went awry. She cupped Zuko’s cheek as she said goodbye. 

“I’ll be back, okay? I just don’t know when…” Katara sighed. “I… have to talk to Kanna, tell her that her son died and she’ll probably want to see his body. Plus, I have arrangments to make for tonight’s funeral…” 

She bit down on her lip as tears built in her eyes, finding it somewhere within her to fight the urge to cry. This wasn’t the time or the place. There never would be the time or the place. She was the South’s chieftess, now.

Katara swallowed, shifting on her feet, then squared her shoulders. “You’re in good hands here, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you… I didn’t let anything happen to Azula, either. I imagine you’re concerned for her. She’s alive and being held beneath the palace.”

* * *

Zuko wanted to go with her. He needed to support his wife, and hold her while she mourned her father. Instead, he was confined to this bed, useless, and in immense pain. Zuko whimpered like an animal in a snare as Katara drifted away to deal with her pain on her own. Zuko felt numb inside, staring at the ceiling as his eyes watered with tears. 

The healer glanced at Katara, watching until she was out of vision, and as soon as she was, she slapped down her gloves furiously, startling Zuko. “If I wasn’t under direct orders from our new Chieftess, I’d leave you to die and I’d love watching every second of it as you painfully slipped away. You deserve that. Your sister took our chief, tried to take our chieftess, and your family took our past chiefs, and his wife… all of the royal family, our heir, everyone. You’re sick, Prince Zuko. You deserve to die, and you will never be welcome in this nation again as long as you have the displeasure of living,” she spat, but her hand still glowed and she felt over his chest. 

Her harsh and cruel words had Zuko heaving another sob, and he moved his gaze to the healer, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Zuko choked out, but she looked at him with nothing but contempt. Zuko didn’t blame her. His family had caused nothing but pain and death to her people. What would it do for her to help him live? Why would _anyone_ in this nation welcome him ever again?

He spent the entire day in guilt and in pain, wondering if he’d die, or if the healer would let him die, and claim it was an accident. There were a couple times he choked on blood in his throat, and he swore she’d never come to relieve him, but while cursing beneath her breath, she did. 

When nightfall came, Zuko stirred. He knew that Hakoda’s funeral would be at sundown, and he didn’t care what his condition was, his wife would not stand alone at her father’s funeral. She needed him; he was her husband. Zuko threw himself from the bed, biting his lip until it bled to keep himself from screaming in pain. He was panting as he dragged himself to a wheelchair. The healer just watched, laughing beneath her breath, muttering about how if he wanted to kill himself– that was on him. 

Zuko was gasping for breath, but just as things were being laid out– a reluctant servant wheeled Zuko in, and had him placed right beside his wife.

* * *

“Zuko!“ Katara said in surprise, looking to the servant for an explanation. He wasn’t supposed to be out of bed, she’d given direct order. A shrug was all she was offered, however, and Katara frowned, inspecting what she could see of Zuko’s bandages through the _V_ of his tunic.

There was blood seeping into the white strips and his breathing was labored. Whatever reparations she’d made had been undone. She’d have to do it all over again. Katara grumbled under her breath. 

"You shouldn’t have come, Zuko.”

It was initially said out of concern, as consolation for the level of pain he must be in, but it sounded like something else. Her gaze flicked over the diplomats and staff as they gathered for the procession to the harbor. Their eyes darted to her, to the Fire Nation prince beside her, to the Fire Lord and his heir, standing just behind her with Kanna and Pakku. And their eyes were _harsh._

 Katara didn’t know if she could blame them for it.

_‘I’m proud to be Fire Nation,’_ he’d said. No, he’d spat it at her, right after his self-righteous speech about the Fire Nation’s honorable tactics in war. She wondered if he was still proud. She wondered if she would forgive him for that.

Katara chewed on her lip. A part of her wanted to send him away. A part of her never wanted to see him or any proud Fire National ever again. But, there was a treaty, regardless of how useless Zuko said it was; her father would’ve told her lead by example.

And peace was his dream, his life’s work.

She swallowed her bitterness and sorrow, and moved behind Zuko’s wheelchair, a hand brushing his shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to here. “You didn’t have to come, but I’m— I'm grateful you did.”  

* * *

Those words struck him just like the lightning that had coursed through his heart. She didn’t want him there, and he couldn’t even blame her. He didn’t see his uncle or Lu Ten anywhere in sight, but he knew they were somewhere out of respect. But, that meant Katara didn’t want them around. Earth King Kuei was up there, as was Yue– Lu’s wife. Chief Arnook was there as well, and there was word Avatar Aang was on his way. It was the least of his worries, but the Fire Nation was quickly becoming the world’s adversary once more, and it was all thanks to Azula. Azula, his sister, who had shattered his wife’s heart, and killed a man that Zuko, too, had grown to love.

He imagined Hakoda there for the birth of their child, and him helping the baby learn to walk and talk, and maybe watching them while the two of them were busy. Hakoda had always been there for him, even when his daughter was upset with him, he still offered him support- he offered him a father figure, a family- love. Now, he was dead. Like all the royal family save for Katara and her aging grandmother, who Zuko feared may not last long due to grief, they were murdered by the Fire Nation. This country that so lovingly forgave his past before, gave him a second chance, and welcomed him as one of their own, would likely now scorn him as the healer did. He didn’t blame a single one of them, not even his wife, especially not his wife. A part of him wondered if he’d be banished. What if Katara declared war? It wouldn’t be absurd. The princess of the Fire Nation assassinated the leader of the Southern Water Tribe. War would be a warranted declaration, even with the peace calls. His uncle would do anything in his power to quell the Water Tribe. He couldn’t fathom, too, how his uncle was dealing with all this. What on Earth could he do?

What could anyone do?

Perhaps it would have been best if he’d died in the attack. Katara wouldn’t have any tough decisions to make. Would the treaty be honored? Was all he was anymore a treaty? He was a symbol of death to her family. His family killed all but one member of hers. Justice would only state that she killed him and his in turn. It’d be vicious, cold, and cruel, but broken hearts typically were. They thirsted for justice, and though ruthless, it would be just in the system of eyes for eyes.

Zuko’s words bounced around in his head from their fight only moments before. He heralded Fire Nation pride, was furious at her for stereotyping his people, and decried such treatment. His people all but proved her right. He felt unspeakable guilt, and accepted whatever bigotry was to come. He refused to speak of it either because for whatever grief he suffered at the hands of this atrocity, he was not the victim of it. His sister was the perpetrator, and if he was the scapegoat to heal, he’d take it. He refused to ricochet this horrid crime and murder into something even remotely about him. His wife lost her father. Hakoda lost his life. Kanna lost her son. A nation lost its beloved leader. It was violent and despicable, and if they hated him for it so be it. He would take it humbly in stride because that would be what both of their nations need. None of this was about him, and he refused to make a centimeter of it so.

When Katara leaned over to whisper to him, Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut. He was in agony from his wounds and he could hardly breathe. The poor circulation made his vision spotty, but he had to be there. If even in the back, away from her, he had to be there. He had to. He didn’t have anything to say, and knew she hated him in this moment. But, he was still her husband, and he would always love her. He would be there for her if she changed her mind, and at her beck and call, and whenever she needed him.

He told her just that, "I’ll always be here, so long as you need me.”


	22. Chapter 22

The procession to the harbor was slow and solemn.

Hakoda’s body was clothed in the finest, blue furs and carried on the shoulders of six warriors. Katara followed behind them, hand-in-hand with her grandmother, as was the custom for family to have the place of honor behind the dead. Pakku wheeled Zuko just behind the women, followed by other Water Tribe nobles, then men and women from all of the world— the men and women who’d come to celebrate Hakoda’s dream.

And now he wasn’t even here. He wasn’t able to see what the treaty had done, what he’d brought his people through the Summit and the marriages he’d arranged with the rest of the world. He was gone.

Katara tried not to think of it. Every where she looked, she expected to see him. She longed to hear his laugh booming across the silent city, to catch him smiling with mirth, his blue eyes twinkling. But the snow was grey, the blue skies were absent, like the world itself was mourning the Tribe’s loss, and all she heard were steady drumbeats, keeping the pace to the harbor.

The beat stopped when they reached the docks. Hakoda’s ship bobbed in the black waves, its sails flapping and snapping in the wind.

Katara looked it over slowly, then gave the warriors a nod. They carried her father’s body up the gangway, then laid it down atop a pyre. When the warriors left the ship’s deck, Katara and Kanna went up to Hakoda’s body, dousing him and the deck in sweet incense and oil. As they finished, Kanna bent to kiss her son’s pallor cheek, then left the ship.

Katara lingered though, cupping her father’s face and chewing her lip. She fought tears, but it was no use. Sobs spilled freely, splattering her father’s skin, hair, and clothing. She could’ve stayed there all day, frozen by the wind and flutters of snow, crying over him, but it wouldn’t bring him back.

She straightened, wiping her cheeks. Katara unfastened the cloak she wore, her father’s favorite cloak, and draped it over Hakoda’s body. And somewhere, in the depths of her soul, she found the strength to turn away, walking across the deck and returning to the docks.

“The ocean gives us life,” she said, facing the open sea.

A group of waterbenders flanked her, slowly pushing the ship out into the bay. When the current and wind caught it, the ship drifted further, looking no different than it did returning from a voyage.

_What she wouldn’t give to leap into her father’s arms again._

Katara closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Her grandmother came up beside her, wrapping her up in her soft embrace. Behind her, Katara heard a warrior approach and she turned, accepting a bow that’d been strung with a flaming arrow.

She swallowed, staring at the flickering yellow and orange, then looked away. The fire made her angry, and acting out of anger was dangerous, her father would say.

Katara drew the arrow back and let it fly towards the ship. When it found its mark and the ship caught flame— "We give our life back.“ 

* * *

Zuko felt cold and alone without Hakoda. Katara was the one who made him feel warm and welcome, but Hakoda ushered that in, and along. Hakoda had done that all for him, expecting nothing in return. And, just what had Zuko given him in return? Nothing. Zuko had nothing to show for it. Hakoda had given him the world selflessly, and Zuko had done nothing for that man other than lead him to an untimely death. If Katara had married the Earth Prince, this likely would not have happened. 

Zuko also felt alone because he knew he would never be anything more than a painful reminder of her father’s grisly murder. He already could feel it. The glares, the whispers of hatred. And Hakoda would be the one to quiet that, but he was gone. His friendly laugh, and clap on the shoulder, and teasing whispers were all gone. 

And just like that, Hakoda was gone. Katara bravely moved him off to sea, and when she cried, he wanted to hold her, but she wouldn’t want him to. That would only bring her more pain. 

Zuko withheld his own physical pain until after the ceremony was over, and the only stragglers were soldiers left behind. Katara turned to go, and when she did with her grandmother, Zuko looked up at Pakku, blood dripping off his chin, and his breath fatigued and labored. His eyes were wet and puffy from crying, which made it hard to see the glaze in them from his weathered state. 

“Pakku, I’m sorry, but please… I– I must lie down… _please_.”

He could see in the old man’s eyes that he too hated fire– and the prince in which the fire bore.

* * *

The palace was a bustle of hushed voices. Guests disappeared into their rooms or went to the banquet hall to eat— the Summit was still scheduled to begin upon Avatar Aang’s arrival. Katara had made that clear. It was her father’s work, after all, and she would honor him, no matter the emotional toll.

What weighed her down wasn’t the task of entertaining diplomats, however. She could do that. It’d be a welcome distraction. No, what hurt was how utterly alone she was.

They could all move on, now that the funeral was past. They could eat, laugh, drink, fall asleep and wake up knowing their family was in tact. She was isolated, stuck in solitude with her grief. And her grandmother could try to help, her friends could try to cheer her up, her husband could—

_Her husband._

She hadn’t seen him in the quarter hour she’d been back in the palace. Katara glanced around, spotting Iroh, but not Zuko. Panic swelled in her throat as she worried over losing two loved ones in a single day.

“Iroh? Iroh, have you seen Zuko?” Katara rushed to the Fire Lord, gripping his arm. “He was at the funeral with Pakku and he hasn’t— he’s not back. He’s—”

“He’s here, Chieftess,“ a guard walked in with Zuko, who looked pale and small in the wheelchair.

Katara let go of Iroh, marching towards her husband. A myriad of emotions played across her face, from rage to relief to watering eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

“What were you doing?” she asked. Katara tilted Zuko’s chin up, wiping blood from his lip with her sleeve. “Zuko… _Agni,_ come on.” She relieved the guard of Zuko’s wheelchair and started towards their bedroom. "You should’ve stayed in bed.“ 

* * *

“ _Katara_ ,” whispered Zuko when he saw her come towards him. He reached to weakly cup her cheek. “I had to go,” he told her frailly. “I couldn’t _leave_ you there,” he murmured, his eyes wobbly as Katara wiped the blood from his chin. He was exhausted as she wheeled him to their bedroom, and he watched her face with tired, hooded eyes as she helped him from the chair to the bed. Zuko fell against the bed with a grunt, left panting from that mere move alone.

He wanted to tell her that he was there for her, and that he was sorry. He wanted to do anything to ease her pain. Zuko opened his eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily. “Kat,” Zuko spoke, half his energy used to speak her nickname alone. “Your father… Hakoda was half the reason the South became home,” Zuko choked out, his eyes glossing over with tears. He didn’t know if he’d brought comfort or hurt her deeper. He hoped he could offer her something– anything. 

“I love you, Katara,” Zuko choked out, tears spilling from the corner of his eye to hit the bed. “I’m here… okay… I- I’m _here_ ,” he whispered. 

* * *

“Well you _won’t_ be here if you keep fucking your wound up,” Katara growled, opening his tunic. His bandages were stained red, making her grimace. “Don’t move,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

She left him on the bed for a moment, going to the kitchen and filling a bowl with warm water. Katara gathered towels, scissors, and gauze on her way back, slipping into her room with full arms and weary sigh.

Spilling the loose items onto the bed, Katara set the bowl on the nightstand. Her eyes flicked up Zuko’s frame before she reclaimed the scissors and gingerly began cutting the soiled bandages away.

“Sorry,” she muttered when he winced. “It’ll only hurt until I start healing, again. I can give you something to help you sleep, too. If the pain’s too much.” 

* * *

Zuko inhaled sharply in pain as Katara tore at the bandage. The cool air stung, and Zuko’s fingers dug into the blankets in pain as he groaned, his face scrunching together while his breaths grew more labored. He tried to hold it back, tried not to worry her or cause fuss, but it hurt. “Sorry,” was all Zuko could mutter while Katara went to fetch her medical supplies.

Zuko clenched the fabric tighter, pursing his lips in pain as Katara worked at the bandage. He shook his head at her apology. She had nothing to apologize for, he was the one who kept making everything in her life harder on her. He decided to stop speaking. It was too difficult, and she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. She needed _time_. Anyone who lost someone needed time. He didn’t know if she was the type to grieve on her own, or if she needed support. He wanted to ensure her that if she was the latter, he was here to be that person if she so chose, but he had a feeling he’d never be a _choice_ again. 

“A– A pill would be good,” Zuko spoke, needing it for more pain than one. He was afraid to be alone, and his family was set sail to embark to the Fire Nation tonight. The immature, selfish part of him wanted to sail off with them. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to lie here alone with visions of lightning, and the crack of it coursing through his veins and snatching the air from his lungs. “Thank you, Katara.”

* * *

Katara paused for a moment, looking up from his chest to his pain-stricken face. His cheeks were hollow, and Zuko clenched his teeth. There was no denying what he’d done, the sacrifice he’d made from his own well-being and freedom from pain. 

She looked away, tears falling unbidden and unwanted, and pulled fresh, glowing water across the lightning’s mark. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you, Zuko.” 

“You saved me,” Katara whispered. Her vision was blurry as she worked on him. “You saved me, and I didn’t— I—” She released a pent-up breath, only to suck in clean air and hold it again. 

“Don’t hate me,” she said. “I didn’t want to be saved. I was… okay. I had this thought when I saw what was coming for me. I’d be with my family. Then, you saved me and I—” Katara pulled her hands off his chest, one of them going to her mouth as she fought a sob. 

“My dad’s gone,” Katara whispered. 

There was finality in it. She’d said it aloud finally, repeated what everyone else had been telling her. “He’s gone. He’s never coming back. He was killed and I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“My tribe wants vengeance. They want a war. I don’t blame them,” Katara admitted. “Iroh is running back home like I’ve already threatened to sink his ships. The Earth King is behaving as though all peace talks are void. My husband is…” 

She looked at him, her lips quivering with unshed tears. She didn’t know how to explain it. Her husband was Fire Nation— and some part of her soul yearned to burn his nation to the ground. But she couldn’t. _She wouldn’t._ Because she loved him. 

Katara took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, finally giving in to her weariness and sinking down on the bed. “I don’t know what to do, Zuko. I just know that for a moment I wished I was dead.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes flooded with tears when he saw the pain and agony in his wife’s. He reached up with what little strength he could muster to cup her cheek and brush her tears away with his thumb. “Shhhh, shhh,” Zuko whispered, shaking his head. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” Zuko assured her. He understood. The kind of pain that made you wish you were just dead. It was all so fresh, too. He didn’t blame her. 

“I don’t hate you; I love you,” Zuko muttered, “I know you’re hurting… you’re hurting more than I can understand, and I’m hurting too, but I… I can’t even begin to understand how badly you’re hurting right now,” Zuko choked softly. “I know they want vengence, and war… I know,” Zuko spoke. 

He thought of even the healer who wished him death, and wanted to kill him, save for Katara’s orders. He thought of Pakku who looked at him like he was subhuman. He couldn’t blame them either, but he would be a liar if he said it didn’t hurt. He would be a liar if he said he wasn’t terrified. He would be a liar if he said he didn’t feel like his uncle and cousin were stabbing him in the back and abandoning him while he laid here in died after Azula’s attack. He knew that this was a lone wolf attack– this did not speak for his government or country. Azula was insane. But, he also knew they weren’t unreasonable for blaming the Fire Nation. He knew emotions were running high, and mostly– his wife needed to heal. 

“Katara… your people need you, yes, but you need to heal first and foremost,” Zuko spoke. “You need to grieve, my love,” Zuko choked out. “You’re allowed to wish you were dead, Kat. You’re allowed to sob until your lungs hurt,” Zuko whispered, tears lining his own face. “Don’t hold it in, Katara, or it’ll only build up and get worse… you need to take care of yourself… and let the people who love you help you get through this, even in the smallest ways,” Zuko urged. 

“Don’t be afraid to grieve, Katara. Your father was one of the best people I have ever known.”

* * *

“Don’t be afraid to grieve?” Katara asked, rhetorically. She pulled her eyes up from the floor to look at him, to search him. Maybe he’d have the answers, if she stared into his soul. 

Katara found nothing though, aside from flickering gold eyes that held pain to rival hers. She sighed dejectedly and left the bed for fresh gauze and the pain medicine.   

“There’s no time to grieve,” she muttered, coming back to him, “not for me. The world will all but fall to pieces if I don’t lead my people through this, and lead them well.” Katara gestured for Zuko to sit up, beginning to bind his chest with the bandages. “Everything’s resting on my shoulders, now.” 

* * *

“Katara, I know you have the world on your shoulders, but if you don’t heal yourself first, the world will suffer too,” Zuko tried pleading with her, his eyes wobbly with fatigue. “You can elect a spokesperson, Kat… just while you take care of yourself, please,” he implored her. “You need to take care of yourself, love. You can’t neglect yourself,” he urged, breathing heavily in between his phrases, sentences, and words as he went on.

 

Zuko sat up with a whimper, gritting his teeth as Katara wrapped his wound. “I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered. “I understand if Azula must be… executed… she assassinated the chief… she…” Zuko rambled weakly tears threatening his vision. “I’m sorry I tore this,” he choked out too, tears falling once more. “I don’t mean to keep giving you work while you’re already hurting… I just… the only thing I want is to help you,” promised Zuko. “However I can… if that means leaving you be, then that too. Just– Just tell me. Tell me what you need, Katara,” Zuko whispered, letting out a shaky, labored breath- exhausted beyond comprehension, but also in immeasurable pain.

 

“When I’m well enough, I can help– I…” Zuko trailed off, “No, they won’t want to hear from me, I know that,” he stated. “But, you can get a diplomat, Kat. They can speak for you. Please take care of your heart. You’re allowed to hurt, my love. You’re only human.”

* * *

Katara glanced sideways at her husband, watching him all but break as he sat up. She couldn’t tell if he was hurting because of his sister or for his sister, but the possibility made anger flare up.

“I won’t execute Azula if it’s going to cause you that much distress,” she muttered, almost bitterly. If it wasn’t for him, the princess would already be dead, but Katara spared her for Zuko’s sake— she couldn’t stand to be a cold-blooded murderer in his eyes, given how his people were _so above_ that.

She grit her teeth together, keeping any further retorts buried in her chest as Zuko continued talking. It all sounded impossible, mourning and healing and somehow moving on. She’d done it before, but Katara couldn’t remember, couldn’t _fathom_ just how. It helped in the past to have her father with her. They helped each other. Now—

Now, she was alone.

And she didn’t want her husband. She didn’t want anyone. Healing would have to be something she did in solitude this time. Katara wasn’t sure Zuko would want that answer, though, so she changed the subject.

“You can help me by listening to me,” Katara said. “You have to stay in bed, rest, and heal. You have a child on the way, Zuko. If there’s no other reason not to throw your well-being away— let that be it.”

* * *

Zuko’s heart ached thinking about Azula’s death. It ached when he conspired to take his father’s life as well. It destroyed his uncle beyond repair. This would likely destroy him as well, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t the just thing to do. Zuko exhaled shakily, looking up at Katara, whose gaze was sharp enough to cut through right to his heart, and it felt as though it did. He had to tell his wife the truth, though, no matter the pain.

 

“Azula deserves punishment for her crime under your law,” Zuko whispered. “I know that,” he assured her. “What she did was unforgivable and despicable,” Zuko stated firmly. His heart seized at the thought– but not only had Azula murdered his father-in-law, she attempted to kill the love of his life. Zuko’s hand gripped Katara’s wrist as tight as his weakened-state could grapple as he stared off blankly, lost in horrid thoughts. “She’s dangerous, too, my sister,” Zuko mumbled almost devoid of emotion. “If she’s confined… she will escape,” Zuko stated flatly. “She’s the most intelligent person on earth, and I always told her it’s a shame she never put her head to something good,” he explained in pain. Zuko pursed his lips to restrain a sob. It wasn’t the time to be emotional over the death of a man who killed his wife’s father. “She tried to take you out too… and I can’t–” Zuko began, but paused, caught up in the emotion of such a thought, even. “She won’t stop until she’s done what she came for. That’s who she is,” Zuko explained. “If you– you fear the backlash… you can present the International Court system at the Summit. They won’t want to hear from me any longer, I’m sure, and I’m unwell now– so you, Katara, you present it. Maybe if Azula is tried there, with Avatar Aang… I don’t know,” Zuko muttered aloud, shaking his head, distraught.

 

But, he nodded as Katara went on. He knew they had a baby on the way, and the last thing he wanted was to not be here for that child, or his wife when she brought him or her into this world. This world seemed so dark and cruel now, and tears shed at the thought of it, and he promised himself he’d do something to make it better- change it for his child, for Katara, even if she wanted to keep him as distant as possible now. That lead Zuko down the path of worry for their child. Zuko knew Katara would never tolerate any kind of maltreatment towards their baby, but she couldn’t help any hateful thoughts that now spurred. Especially, Zuko feared, if the child was a fire bender. Zuko only feared his treatment would become worse, festering in hatred, before it came better. After all, Iroh had fled with Lu Ten– too. It wasn’t a good image, and Zuko felt abandoned. He didn’t want to think about it, despite where their duties may lie, to address their homeland, the nation he ruled, and assured them after such a tragedy and a potential looming threat of war. He still felt deserted; his uncle and cousin literally left him for dead. He was dying in his bed, and they left him. Zuko prayed Katara wouldn’t go to war. This truly was a lone wolf attack. No one in the government sponsored this. It was instantly condemned, and they handed full punitive rights to the South over Azula and promised cooperation and aid in intelligence investigation.

 

“I’ll rest, I promise,” Zuko finally replied, his mind lost in a train wreck of worry. “I’ll do anything for you and our baby.”

* * *

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” Katara relaxed, her shoulders sagging as tension left them. She had a headache building, one she hadn’t noticed with her focus being on Zuko, but now she blinked against the stabbing behind her eyes.

She finished with his bandages and puffed out her cheeks, breathing through her own pain to hand Zuko a pill. “Take this, with a gulp of water.” She gave him a glass, then took it back when he finished.

“You should sleep through to the morning,” Katara said. She helped him lay back down, pulling the blankets over him. When she finished, Katara swallowed a pain pill dry, but didn’t get in bed beside him.

There was still so much to attend to, not just for the Summit, but for her Tribe. They needed her leadership, her decision-making. She had to hold them together, keep the treaty and the peace intact— which was all the harder now that the Fire Lord had fled, acting like a guilty dog with a scrap of meat. And, by no mean was King Keui going to make negotiations simple. The man was a fucking trip and they’d lost all power over him now that his son’s marriage was exposed as a sham.  

Katara sighed and sank to the edge of the bed. She shouldn’t keep Zuko awake with her rambling, but having someone there was to talk was better than no one, Katara reasoned.

“I’ll have you act for the Fire Nation in the… communication regarding this breach of peace. I think, since my people will view you as under my control and influence… I think it will be smoother than dealing with Iroh, who, in all honesty, has made himself appear culpable by fleeing.” Katara shifted so she could see Zuko’s face. “That wasn’t a wise move, but I imagine I don’t have to tell you that.”

When his expression shifted to one of fear, Katara put a hand on his leg. “I will honor the treaty, Zuko, and I will require my people to honor it, too. You don’t need to worry for your home.”

* * *

Zuko exhaled in relief at his wife’s reassurances. He looked over her after she swallowed that pill dry. She looked exhausted. He face was red and puffy from crying, there were bags beneath her eyes, and she was but twenty-two, but she appeared as though she’d aged ten years through her stress and grief. It was too much to put on one person, reigning in a country, and grieving all in one, fowl swoop. Zuko reached for her hand weakly, leaving it open to offer it to her, instead.

 

“I would be more than happy to help you in any way I can,” Zuko replied. “I’ll address your people– our people,” Zuko corrected, hoping she knew that he still had his heart in the Water Tribe. “I too will honor the treaty,” promised Zuko, tears pooling up again when she poke of it all. It was all too much– for everyone. Zuko grated his teeth in upset frustration when he thought of his uncle’s act of cowardice.

 

“I don’t know why he did that,” Zuko bitterly murmured. His emotions stemmed from personal hurt, but also anger at what he did politically by implication. “But, I swear to Agni, Kat, my uncle– and my cousin– they had nothing to do with this. The Fire Nation government didn’t know a thing of this. My uncle would never, ever, ever do something so horribly cruel, Katara,” Zuko swore. “Neither would Lu Ten, Katara, it was all Azula. She was furious my father was taken down. He always favored her, and she’s always been lusting for power,” Zuko explained, tears spilling over. “He went to address the Fire Nation, but it was so stupid, but please… I swear to you that he had no involvement,” Zuko choked out.

 

Zuko shook his head, tears spilling through. Part of him wanted to tell her what was already beginning, why he feared her people wouldn’t want to hear from him either. The healer wanted him dead, and Pakku looked at him like he was going to pray for the same thing tonight. But, Katara had far greater things to worry about than his somewhat-warranted hatred by those she cared for. She lost her father– and she needed to rest, and to grieve.

 

“Katara, love, please get some rest,” Zuko implored. “I’m not saying to lie with me, though I– I more than welcome you to, of course, but if you don’t want to, I understand, if you need to be alone right now, to think… to process it all, then go to another chamber, but love… I am begging you to get some rest before you run yourself into the ground. No one person can think straight without rest, and you’re hurting, Katara, please. You must rest.

* * *

What Zuko said held some truth. Katara was exhausted, physically and mentally. Only rash decisions would be made in her current state. The pillow beside him looked soft, inviting, but laying down beside him sent dread straight to her belly.

“I- I can’t…” she whispered, her lips trembling with the threat of tears. There’d been so many spilt, too many in the night and throughout the day. Katara feared more would come if she were still long enough to invite them.

She shook her head, then looked away, her eyes focused on the floor. “I’m okay,” was her argument. “I’ll, _um—”_ Katara shrugged. She made fists in her dress, wishing Zuko was well, wishing he’d sit up and drag her down to lay on his chest. He could smooth her hair, kiss away her tears…

He was far too maimed for that to be anything more than fantasy. Katara wasn’t so deluded as to expect it. She stayed put, frozen on the edge of the mattress, aside from her leg bouncing in barely repressed emotion.

When she pulled her gaze back to Zuko, her blue eyes were red-rimmed and wet. “I can stay awake,” she said. “Someone has to keep a watch on you.”

* * *

“Kat,” Zuko whispered, his face scrunched in pain, but this time not physical. “Love, please, just lay down. Rest, Katara, please,” he begged her. “Even if you can’t sleep, just lie down a minute before you collapse,” Zuko urged, reaching his hand out to tug at her wrist, but he was so weak he resounded to stroking her arm soothingly.

He couldn’t tell how she felt about him now. It felt like she was making up her mind about him with every minute that passed. But Zuko didn’t care. He was going to love her with every bit he had because he did— and she needed him. She needed him now more than ever, and even if she loathed him, he’d be here for her.

“I’ll wake you if something goes wrong. You rest.”

* * *

Her strong will cracked. Somehow, without much ability to move, Zuko managed to break her down and pull her in with his words, his eyes, his gentle, grazing touch. Katara laced her fingers in his, sucking in a deep breath and holding it. Her eyes burned with tears. 

The breath came rushing out when she released it, and the dam broke. Katara folded up on the bed beside him, a loud, shattered sob clawing its way out. Her throat closed up around the next, leaving her gasping, grabbing at the sheets, then her dress. 

“I can’t do this,” she hissed, clawing at the thick, blue fabric. “I can’t— I— how do I do this? How do I live?” Katara choked around a cry, her body racked with unimaginable and intangible pain. “How do I do this, Zuko? _How?”_

* * *

“Oh, Kat,” Zuko whispered, attempting to sit up, to go to her, but he was too weak. He fell to the bed with a labored huff, and reached over with his hand, stroking her back with his fingertips as much as he could. He stroked her arm, and her hair, trying to give her all the comfort he could. “I know, I know– it hurts,” Zuko choked out. “You can cry– just cry,” Zuko assured her, his own tears falling with his heavy breaths. 

“It’s awful… it’s so awful,” Zuko spoke shakily, not knowing what else to say. He wasn’t going to give her some bullshit motivational speech about how it was all right, and one day she’d smile again. No one wanted to hear that in times like these. Platitudes were far harsher than silence. “It hurts,” Zuko choked out. “I don’t… I have nothing to make it stop. I just know that I– I’ll be here for you every step of the way that you need me, and I love you. You’re not alone.”


	23. Chapter 23

Katara didn’t sleep much that night, or any of the many nights following. The passing weeks brought weariness and nausea from her pregnancy, healing for Zuko (he was finally able to move about on his own), and numbness to the ache in her soul. Maybe she was healing; or, maybe it was her workload.

She found herself in one meeting and out to the next, or hidden away in her office drafting letters and new treaties. She was trying with all her might to hold the fragile world together, yet it seemed bent on falling apart, one nation at a time:

The Fire Nation had all but fled three weeks ago. Now, with Azula still imprisoned in the Water Tribe and Zuko barely healed, Iroh was finally coming to trust Katara— she wasn’t breaking the peacetime; she wasn’t acting without his influence and input being taken into consideration.

Avatar Aang had done much to help in that area, flying back and forth as fast as his old bison could, negotiating talks and finally bringing Prince Lu Ten with him to confer on the international council. The Northern Tribe was more willing, sending a number of representatives South. They benefitted from continued peace;not to mention, Yue was still married to Lu Ten, with their second child on the way. Chief Arnook was helpful in any way he could be, if for nothing else than the well-being of his daughter and grandchildren.

What troubled Katara the most was the Earth Kingdom. Without any collateral (the term King Keui used for the remained marriages), they had no stake in the treaty, nothing to lose by breaching it. And the King was threatening to— _My son’s heartbroken. The world’s in shambles. Your chieftain was a fool for ever thinking this would work. Where’s your vengeance? Where’s your bloodlust?_

Katara had heard rumors of the Earth Kingdom army gathering in Ba Sing Se, and late that evening, the elderly Avatar Aang confirmed such things.

“And there’s no talking Keui off this ledge?” she asked, rubbing her brow in the same manner as her husband.

“It appears not… I threatened to remove him from his position of power, but again… he feels slighted by the treaty, a feeling shared by his people.”

“Right. How offensive of us to give him the crazy Princess,” Katara griped sarcastically. She sat back in her chair, rifling through the papers on her desk. “If we execute Azula… he still wants to march west?”

The Avatar sighed, “With all due respect, Chieftess—”

“—You don’t condone such action, everyone deserves a chance. I know,” she muttered, mulling over her options aloud. “I can’t execute her without a unanimous vote. Keui is being unreasonable. I can’t believe he’d start a second world war because of this.”

“World war?” Aang asked. “You’re planning to join?”

Katara nodded, prompting the Avatar to say, “Which side?”

She sat silently for a moment, looking up at the aged airbender with panic in her throat. Her people would be divided. Some would support her. Others would hate her. She’d have to fight to unite them, to band them together with what used to be their enemy.

Finally, Katara found her voice. “As I said all along, I’m honoring the treaty.” 

* * *

The weeks were long and hard. Katara was suffering deeply, as one would imagine. But, she was pulling her people through strong and whole. She was slowly becoming more and more herself, though her pain was still evident. It always would be, this kind of pain was. It was the same with his physical healing. He was becoming more and more himself, though his pain was still evident. 

Zuko was still in limited mobility, but he could walk on his own for short distances. He wasn’t always feeling as though he was on the brink of death. He was still out of breath quickly, and his heart would ache at times, but he could move. He could be somewhat autonomous. He was getting better, and he was so proud of his wife. Even if she felt still like she was distancing herself from him. 

She was there for him through it all, but she still felt so far away. Zuko could tell she was caught up wondering where the Fire Nation stood amongst all this, and that included him. Most of the country was done mulling it over, though. They’d already decided that he was as damned as Azula. 

Everyone on the council hated him, and they only made it known, deliberately, when Katara wasn’t around. The doctors spoke to him like he was an animal, the guards glared and muttered beneath their breath about how he wasn’t worth protecting after the loss of Hakoda, the councilmen and women blamed him to his face for Hakoda’s death. Civilians would tell him to go home, and say they wished he’d died instead of Hakoda. Zuko didn’t mention a word of it to Katara, she had far too much on her plate as it was, but it was deeply beginning to weigh on his heart. It was a _far_ cry from the warm welcome he received months ago. 

Katara was expecting too, and Zuko didn’t need anything stirred. He was worried for their child, who would be half Fire Nation. He hoped the hatred didn’t carry. Their child was still their prince or princess. He hoped that title would be respected for Katara, if nothing else. 

But, Zuko was lonely. Katara almost felt absent too. The whole country was against him, and Katara was silent. She didn’t sleep with him anymore. She hardly spoke to him, no matter how he tried to comfort her. He knew she was grieving, but it cut him up to be shoved out from her life. His uncle had left him, and at times, it felt like Katara had too. 

But, Zuko always came to Katara with tea every afternoon, and he knocked at her office door with tea and cakes. He held the tray with the assortment of treats with the teapot his uncle had gifted them, and knocked gently once more, unaware of the most important company Katara had in her office.

* * *

Katara huffed irritably at the knock on the door, but her frown vanished when it creaked open and Zuko’s head poked in. A smile spread across her face. Her breath came out in a relieved, little puff. 

“Hi,” she said, relaxing against the back of her seat. “I didn’t realize it was already time for tea… Avatar Aang, you’re more than welcome to stay, if you’d like. I can have another cup brought to you and we can keep discussing our plans.”

Katara gestured at a chair for the old man to sit, but he wagged his hand and bowed respectfully. “That’s alright. We all need breaks now and them. Come find me after,” he said, smiling. “We can tell the tribe together.” 

Avatar Aang saw himself out of Katara’s office and she breathed a sigh of relief with him gone. No matter how much time she spent with the man, she felt uncomfortable being entirely herself. Her tongue was too sharp, her actions were too decisive for such a gentle, passive man— not like her husband. 

Zuko didn’t give up in his affections. He pursued her, made her know she was loved, no matter her temperament or the walls she threw up to keep him at a distance. Whether it upset him or not, Zuko let Katara close herself off. 

And maybe it was what she needed. Maybe she was benefitting from these quiet tea times and the few hours they spent together over dinner. Katara didn’t know. She’d never mourned without the comfort of her family.

“We were discussing the Earth King,” Katara said, breaking her train of thought when Zuko gave her a steaming cup of tea. “He’s causing… _trouble._ You might’ve heard.”

* * *

Zuko smiled as he met Katara’s gaze, his own softening, but he blushed at the sight of the avatar. “Spirits, Avatar Aang,” Zuko spoke, setting down the tray on a side table, bowing respectfully. “I didn’t know you were there, Avatar Aang. I apologize,” said Zuko, but the old man, brushed it off with a tender smile, soon then dismissing himself from the room for a moment to allow the couple their time together. Zuko was grateful for that, nodding at the elder. 

Zuko fetched the tray, and set it between them on her desk then after Aang left. He sat across from her, panting as caught his breath– still weak from his recovering state and injuries. Zuko took his own cup, sipping from it peacefully. He set it down when Katara spoke, his face changing from peace to worry as he solemnly nodded. 

Zuko had heard the rumors of the courtiers and councilmen about the Earth King’s desire for a vengeful war. “Yes… I- I’ve heard rumors. I’ve heard Kuei wants war,” Zuko stated, a hint of horror in his voice. He shook his head, swallowing thickly. “It’s madness,” he hissed. “You don’t wage a fucking war over one madwoman!” Zuko cried. “You aren’t– the South– and it was your chief! Why is he even thinking of this?” Zuko ranted, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“There must be a way to talk him out of this… we just left a century of war. There can’t— we can’t have any more pain, death, destruction…” Zuko murmured. “The treaties weren’t just about marriages, they were a world alliance,” Zuko said firmly. “Kuei can’t– this is… it’s nuts. People will die… young men from the Earth Kingdom… why would Kuei want that? What if it doesn’t stop– and it goes to Ba Sing Se?” Zuko questioned. 

“Katara… can you reason with him? Or Aang? Did he try? What if… what if… there’s… there’s _justice_ for the prince, and your father– from Azula?” Zuko hinted, the thought upsetting him, but he accepted her fate. “Would that satiate him? My uncle will negotiate. He’ll give in to things– better trade cuts… we don’t want _another war._ ”

* * *

“I can’t execute her without everyone’s vote. We’re short the Earth King,” she explained, her eyes down on her tea. “Aang could overrule it, by your design, but he won’t; so, Azula lives.” 

Katara’s eyes flicked up, raking over her husband as if to catch his reaction. He wasn’t happy about his sister’s possible death, Katara could gather as much. It occurred to her that Zuko may have a soft spot for his family, even in their atrocity, something that could either be a weakness or a strength. 

Right now, it was a thorn in her side, because Katara felt guilty for wanting her tribe’s version of justice doled out. And, if Azula were executed, Katara doubted she’d have the capacity to comfort Zuko about it— how was she to _mourn_ the death of her father’s killer? 

She bit down on her lip, then took another sip of her tea, swallowing, “Besides, the Avatar’s already tried negotiating with Keui. He’s taken letters from me, he’s taken your cousin— nothing’s worked. His troops are sailing west and they’re led by the Dai Li.” 

* * *

Panic shot through the fire prince when he heard his wife’s news. Zuko stood slowly, shaking his head in fear and disbelief. “No… no, no,” Zuko muttered, pacing nervously then as he set down his teacup. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing, but finally he sat down– already out of breath from the meager movement. He still wasn’t well. 

Zuko leaned his forehead into his hand, propped on her desk. “Katara, please,” begged Zuko, looking up at her. “Fuck,” he cursed, realizing she was already doing everything she could. “Fuck… fuck,” he mumbled. “He can’t– he can’t send troops… Agni,” panicked Zuko. 

“My uncle, my cousin… Yue, too– their baby– she’s pregnant,” Zuko rambled. “The poorer cities were just beginning to recover… the rural areas were just rid of the rogue soldiers– things were just looking up, we can’t…” Zuko rambled. “He’s insane! It was Azula! She’s mad! Can’t he see that? What does he want from my people? Just these ordinary people? And, my uncle will give him anything he asks!” Zuko cried, his stomach now in knots. 

He felt useless and chained. He wasn’t even well enough to fight if he wanted to. “Does Uncle know? Can we warn him?” Zuko worried. “Kuei is _out_ of his _mind_.”

* * *

“You think I’d let your uncle be ambushed?” Katara asked, almost angered by Zuko’s implication. “I know much of my work has been behind closed doors, but it was to avoid worrying you, Zuko. You’re healing. I didn’t want unnecessary stressed placed on your heart.”

She scoffed under her breath, aching inexplicably. Perhaps it was that Zuko hinted at a lack of faith, but Katara didn’t dwell on the thought too long. They hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms since her father’s death. Things had been strained. Katara worried that Zuko resented her silence and he likely worried that she resented _him._

It wasn’t a subject easily discussed, either. Her feelings were all twisted up, warped by the memories and emotions from her mother’s death, her brother’s death. She’d blamed the Fire Nation for years and now her husband was Fire Nation— and _he was proud._

Katara set down her teacup, her stomach unsettled, and wondered if it’d be cruel to tell Zuko that his words rang in her ears every night. It wasn’t like he could take them back.

Her gaze flicked up to his, and her breath tightened at the sight of watery, worried eyes. Despite herself, Katara reached across the desk and took his hand.

“It’s going to be alright, Zuko. I won’t let anything happen to your uncle or Lu Ten or Yue,” she promised. “It will take some work, some _inspiration,_ by my troops and I will be fighting— if it comes to that— alongside the Fire Nation. You don’t need to worry about my place in all this.” 

* * *

Zuko shook his head at her question. He never thought she’d do such a thing, he was just venting his fears aloud, and pleading with her to stop the Earth King. “No, no… I know you’d never. I’m just– I’m scared, and… I… I feel powerless… and ignorant– I feel useless, and they might… the Earth Kingdom could kill them, and I’m just here…” Zuko explained, letting out a shaky sigh. “Like how I can’t help you… I’m just _here_ ,” he added bitterly towards himself.

He missed her. He missed her quiet laugh, her hand in his, her soft kisses along his face and anywhere else she pleased, her tender touch, and her warm embrace. He missed her most of all, her company, her friendship, her love. He yearned to take her hurt away and prove to her that he could still be trusted and that he was deeply sorry for any way he’d hurt her. Zuko wanted Katara to know how much he loved her. 

With every passing day, his argument he’d given himself that she was only grieving seemed weaker and weaker. Every day it became harder to deny that she likely had fallen out of love with him. The only condolence he could give himself was that perhaps when she healed she could fall in love again, but with every passing moment, it seemed that she may resent him too much for even that. Then, he felt selfish as hell to even worry about such trivialities when she was the one in such pain, who’d lost the one she loved the most. 

Zuko looked up, surprise in his gaze at her touch of her hand. Zuko let out a nervous, shaky breath, terrified for his uncle and cousin. He wanted to go to them, but it would be unwise. The South would see it as treacherous. He had to stay here, despite how much he longed to protect his family. He was moved that she said, despite it all, the death, pain, suffering, and war– she’d fight with his people, hers and his as one– as their arranged marriage was meant to be. 

Zuko pulled her hand up, kissing it affectionately, and pressing her hand to his cheek as he withheld tears. “Thank you,” he whispered lowly, if he spoke any louder, it’d give way to his tears. “Tell me… tell me if there’s anything you need me to do, just say the word, I’ll do it,” promised Zuko as he exhaled shakily. He hoped she would– he hoped she’d take care of herself because he loved her deeply, and worried for her, and she’d hardly allow him to take care of her. He glanced at her taking her in, and if she wouldn’t do it for herself, she would for the baby. Zuko hoped that things could be at least tame in the world, mostly, and between them as well, by the time their child was due. 

“ _Anything_.”

* * *

Katara fought a lump in her throat. Her fingers burned from the feel of his skin beneath them, ached to drift into his hair and pull his lips up to hers for a long, lingering kiss. It used to be so natural, simple; from the day she met him, affection was easy.

Now, Katara worried that cupping his chin, resting her forehead against his, would be an infringement on their carefully laid peace. Kiss him, and he might ask questions; be kissed back, and she might crumble behind her metaphorical walls.

She brushed her thumb across his cheek, then dropped her hand. It took but a second for Katara to miss touching him.

“There’s nothing,” she whispered, her hand balling into a fist in her lap. "I don’t… I don’t need anything…“ Katara looked down as she lied. Guilt swam in her stomach, making her face burn, and her eyes stung with tears.

She didn’t want this distance. Her heart longed for a return of giddiness and joy, _love—_ They’d been so happy just a month ago. Admitting it, asking for it, was far harder than Katara imagined, though. She found herself with the question on the tip of her tongue, her voice and courage absent.

A silence long enough to sting passed. Zuko looked like he was ready to leave, defeat written all over his face at her stubborn will.

“Wait. Zuko… love, wait.” Katara stood up with him, rolling her shoulders to fake confidence. She pretended not to care how much it’d hurt if he said no. "Will you sleep with me tonight?“

* * *

Zuko sighed as Katara dejected his offer. He nodded simply, surrendering then. He swallowed thickly as she kept up the stonewall. His hand felt empty and his cheek felt cold without her touch. He wished she’d let him pull her in, and kiss every inch of her.

He placed his hands on the arms of the chair, squeezing it tightly, tapping the end as he prepared to say goodbye. He turned, half stood, when Katara’s voice softened, and she grabbed his attention. Her attention grabbed him more.

He met her eyes, and Zuko tried not to let it show how sheerly elated he was that she wanted him. Zuko nodded, smiling brightly at her— a real smile that tilted aside— for the first time since everything went to hell.

“I would love to go to bed with you, Kat,” replied Zuko softly, “I’ll wait up for you in our room.”


	24. Chapter 24

Katara smiled as Zuko left her office. She had just a few more items to complete, and she hurried through the documents on her desk, putting final touches on a letter to Fire Lord Iroh, filing away paperwork. She dimmed the lamp on her desk, and on her way out, asked the secretary to schedule a meeting with her war chiefs in the morning. She’d have to inform them sometime, but Katara decided it could wait. Right now, she wanted her husband.

Her steps were light and quick in the halls. She swept by the kitchen on her way, stealing a bottle of wine and squares of chocolate, Zuko’s favorite pairing. Her heart was thumping wildly by the time she reached her bedroom door.

Katara stood outside it for a second, fidgeting with her hair and wiping away the makeup that was surely smudged under her eyes. It was silly how nervous she was, more so than her wedding night, but it’d been a month since she’d shared a bed with her husband and Katara didn’t know how much had changed between them.

Gathering her breath, she knocked once, then pushed the door open with a shy smile.

“Hi,” Katara murmured, spotting Zuko on the bed, a scroll in his hands. She stepped into the room completely, and made a show of the wine she’d brought along. “I… thought you might want something to drink?” 

* * *

Zuko felt much lighter that entire day. He knew that he would get to sleep peacefully for once. He was nervous as he went about his routine. Zuko hoped he would still be all she remembered, all that she wanted. He didn’t even care as he walked through the palace and everyone looked on at him in contempt and disgust. He was the one who got to hold Katara at night, and even if she didn’t love him anymore, she trusted him enough for that. She would never trust any of them that much. So he decided, tonight, he didn’t care to pay them any mind.

Zuko was easily exhausted now. He walked about, engaging in his routine, which involved taking care of the relations between the North and the Fire Nation, which was awful these days. Arnook was wary of Lu Ten, despite Zuko’s, clearly biased, reassurances. There was nothing that could tell but time, and in the least, Zuko had faith in the North not to join with Kuei, due to his daughter’s marriage, and his own grandchildren.

Running paperwork had Zuko out of breath, and already ready for bed. He was still weak, and still not himself. But, despite his physical weariness, Zuko was far more upbeat. He was delighted to have his eyes wobbling as he awaited his wife in bed. He’d gone out of his way to please her. Zuko bathed, scrubbing himself with her favorite-scented soaps, and considered shaving, but left his facial hair. The men in her tribe all had facial hair. Katara probably liked it, even if he wasn’t used to it. It was starting to grow on him as well, and besides, it kept his face warmer.

Zuko had gotten her flowers from the greenhouse as well, poinsettias. Katara had always loved those. Zuko had picked them all and arranged them into a bouquet, as he was always artistically-oriented. He then lied on the bed awaiting her with a scroll in his hands. 

The door finally creaked, and Zuko’s face alit. He smiled brighter when he saw Katara carrying all the chocolates and the bottle of his favorite wine. His heart warmed, thinking of all the trouble she’d gone to just for him. He sat up, wanting to go to her, but he stayed with his feet swung over the bed– too tired to want to move another muscle. 

“I would _love_ something to drink,” Zuko retorted with a teasing smile as she placed the goodies on the nightstand. “And, chocolate too– you know me well,” he added, smirking with a subtle blush. “Thank you, it’s lovely,” Zuko told her, then gesturing to the bouquet of flowers. “I thought you might like these, for your office or something, to brighten it up. It’s not much… I just thought they’d be nicer to look at all day than stacks and stacks of paperwork.”

He glanced over at her then, “Are… all things considered,” Zuko began, not wanting to bring up anything too sensitive, but he was genuinely concerned, “Are you adjusting to your role all right? As Chieftes? I know you haven’t been given any easy beginning tasks, but… I think you’re doing a great job handling the awful things that have been thrown your way. I’m proud of you for that, Kat… I am.”

* * *

“Who’s to say I’m doing a great job?” Katara mused darkly, a fatigued shrug lifting her shoulders. “I don’t know _what_ I’m doing. I don’t know what my dad would want me to do. I feel like I’m drowning and flailing about.” 

She sighed, her bottom lip between her teeth, arms crossed. “It doesn’t help that we thought this day was far off. He taught me, but… not everything. I don’t know everything.” 

Katara made a face, stress and dejection obvious in the lines of her brow, but she ultimately pushed her troubles aside. Or tried. She’d come here for Zuko, for their marriage, not herself. She could forget what bothered her for a night.

Fingering the petals of the poinsettias, Katara made herself smile, commenting on their color before retrieving the wine. She poured Zuko a glass, then took a piece of chocolate for herself, and crawled up beside him on the bed. 

“Tell me about you,” she said, cupping his chin. The start of a beard tickled her fingertips, bringing a genuine, little giggle to her throat. “I didn’t notice this earlier today. I like it. It’s kind of… sexy.” 

* * *

Zuko sighed when she sharply retorted, and he expected her to. He meant to encourage her, but expected a backfire when the words left his mouth. “Katara…” began Zuko softly, “I know that,” he told her. “We didn’t know anything when we were thrown together to get married, either, but… we figured things out,” Zuko spoke, realizing in hindsight that maybe, at the moment, their marriage wasn’t a great analogy. “You can figure this out too. From what you were thrust into, this insanity, and the fact that you hardly had time to learn– you’ve done tremendous. I think so,” Zuko whispered. “Your people think so too. Please, cut yourself some slack, and give yourself some credit,” implored Zuko.

He followed her eyes, seeing the hurt in them, the self-doubt. He wished his words meant more. He wished she could have more faith in them. But, he let it go, and smiled while she toyed with the flowers, trying not to become disheartened as he took a piece of chocolate, and commented on how incredibly delicious it was. He thanked her for the glass of wine, taking a sip as he noted it was his favorite. 

Katara then smiled, coming in close beside him, and Zuko wanted to lean his head against hers, kiss her, pull her in close, but he let her lead in– whatever this was– getting back to normal, he hoped, no matter how slow the steps. Her comment made him snort a chuckle though, and he wagged his brow teasingly. “Oh yeah?” he rebuked, “Well, I’m glad you like it,” Zuko murmured with a sarcastically-seductive tone. “It’s just for you,” Zuko added, laughing tenderly as he leaned his head forward to speak to her. 

He put his hand over hers, and wanted so badly to kiss her. But, it’d been a month, and he hadn’t a clue what he wanted, so he simply lingered. He didn’t want to pull away, and he didn’t want to initiate anything she wasn’t ready for. So he stayed, and slowly rose his gaze to see if he’d meet hers, or find hers fixated elsewhere in the same dubious cloud. 

* * *

“Is it?” Katara laughed, a distraction from the tight nerves in her belly. Her fingers moved up his jaw, into his hair, combing through the raven strands with gentle dexterity. She could feel his eyes on her. It made her mouth dry, her breath short.

Why did she feel like some inexperienced teenager? Her husband was in her bed. _Her husband—_ Yet, Katara’s heart dropped into her stomach at the mere idea of a kiss. Her throat tightened at the prospect of touching and being touched by him.

Katara pulled her fingers form his hair, settling her hand on the back of his neck and risking a glance at him. She wanted to kiss him. Zuko looked like he’d let her, looked like he wanted to kiss her, too. His eyes flicked between hers and her mouth. His breath came out between parted lips, shallow and shaking.

She nodded slowly, though Katara wasn’t sure exactly why. It could’ve been to give herself permission or give permission to him. All she knew was that Zuko stole her breath and captured her lips, closing what little space remained between them.

Katara twisted her fingers in Zuko’s hair when his mouth melded with hers. A sigh, born out of relief and need, sounded in her throat, spilling across his tongue in the form of a moan.

She’d missed this, forgotten this. He made her giddy and warm, melted the ice around her heart, set her blood aflame. His mouth tasted like chocolate and red wine. His beard tickled her chin and her lips. He smelled like the floral soap she’d made him. He felt strong and hot and just like the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she still loved.

Katara pulled back, brushing her nose against his, and said as much, “I love you, Zuko. I hope you don’t think I’ve stopped. I’ll always love you.”

* * *

Zuko was nervous as he lied on the bed with his wife. It seemed inane– she was his wife. But, they hadn’t shared a bed in over a month, and that month plus felt like eons with all the tragedies that were packed into it. Things felt the same, but also new, and Zuko didn’t know how she felt, and it made him nervous. But nonetheless, she still always knew how to make him smile, and to put him at ease– just as she had when he arrived here. She’d proven she’d do it time and time again. 

He waited and watched, and when she nodded, a stupid sense kicked into him, and he decided to kiss her. Zuko pressed his lips against hers, sighing into her mouth. It felt perfectly right, and his hand grasped hers, and goosebumps rose on his skin as her fingers gently clenched in his hair. Katara’s lips were soft and warm, and he wanted to kiss her all day. He’d missed the feeling of her lips against his own, and he missed her tender touches. He missed having Katara this close, and feeling safe– feeling like he was at home. Right now, he felt that again. 

When Katara pulled back, Zuko had a gentle, lovestruck smile on his face. His cheeks were blushed crimson, and the color matched his lips. He laughed shyly, and delighted, his fingers crawling over hers in deep affection. His eyes were lidded and glaringly full of love. They were melted so in a way that made them look like honey, and his heart felt as warm and melted as so in his chest. 

He wasn’t prepared to hear those words again, and when he did– he swore his heart literally deliquesced. Zuko laughed, surprised, and when he knew he showed it, he tried to hide it. He didn’t want Katara to know that she was right in her intuitive rhetorical question– he presumed she no longer loved him. But she did, and she wasn’t just saying it. He felt it too. Maybe the way he’d convinced himself before, that she was grieving, and it made her distant– was the truth. 

Zuko’s eyes watered, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat so he could, too, swallow his emotion. The prince laughed again, and pulled her close, pressing his face into the crook of her neck as he pecked a kiss there before nuzzling against her skin. “I love you too,” Zuko replied finally. “I’ve loved you all along,” he promised, “I hope you knew,” he murmured, and he truly did. He wanted, more than anything, for her to know that he loved her, he cared, and that he was there while she grieved, even if she had to do it on her own. “I hope you _know_ ,” he corrected. “I love you more than anything in the world, Katara… I always _will_.” 

* * *

“I know, Zuko, and I’m sorry,” Katara admitted, wrapping her arms around him. She held him close, and entwined her legs with his. She already felt better, _lighter_ , having him near.

Katara silently scolded herself for the unnecessary distance she’d created between them, apologizing more. “I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve, at least, spent time with you. I thought it would be easier if I didn’t let myself feel anything— it wouldn’t hurt if I lost you, too.”

“But I’ve been hurting this entire time,” she said, “and if I’d just… if I’d talked to you… I’ve been stupid. I’ve been so stupid, for a month, and you’ve been in the crossfire. I’m sorry.”

* * *

Zuko fell into her embrace, memorizing the way it felt to be held by her as if she would never hold him again. Zuko let out a sigh of relief, his own arms wrapping around her, and allowing the moment just to be- relishing it, and cherishing her. Her apology meant more to him than she could know, and he simply held her tighter in response.

“It’s all right,” whispered Zuko, rubbing her back. “You were hurting, I know that,” he assured her, pressing a lingering kiss to her neck. “I’m just happy you’re here— I’m glad to see you smile again. I’ve missed seeing you smile,” he told her.

He pulled back to look at her then, smiling with glassy eyes. Zuko tucked a lock of his wife’s stray hair behind her ear, then cupped her cheeks, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. His hands smoothed down her arms, and he held her wrists, leaning in to kiss her once more, gingerly.

“You won’t lose me. I promise. I’ll always be here.”

* * *

“Well, that’s good. That’s what I need,” Katara said, smiling softly at him. She shifted up to her elbow, wanting to be at his level so she could kiss him back easily. And she did, happily and eagerly, feeling like they were finding their place with each other again.

If he were better, she’d take it further, but Katara was wary of pushing Zuko to the point of pain. She broke away, flopped down with a forlorn sigh. “I’ll need you in the coming weeks, Zuko. I have to issue a war decree in the morning. Things are going to get hard. They might be scary.”

“I have supporters in the Tribe, I do. They aren’t as vocal as those hoping to wage war against the Fire Nation, but they exist. They back me,” she murmured, meeting Zuko’s gaze. "I’ll have opposition though, since I'm going to fight _with_ your people. And, you’ll have opposition. They’ll add any men lost to the list of deaths you caused.“

Katara watched as concern flashed in Zuko’s gaze, even fear. She sat up, reaching out to comfort him with a touch. “It just takes time, okay? It took time after the first war. It took time after you first arrived here. Eventually, they’ll forgive you. They’ll forgive the Fire Nation.”

“I’m here to support you, Zuko, _protect_ you, if and when you need me. You can bring me anything, any problem you’re having.” 

* * *

“Kuei is a disaster of a king,” spat Zuko, shaking his head, but he leaned into her touch, put his hand over hers while his eyes fluttered shut. He soaked in how comforting the warmth of her hand felt against his face. “Thank you, Katara… thank you for trusting me— for not jumping to conclusions when it would have been so easy to,” Zuko muttered sincerely. He didn’t know what he would do if Katara had declared war on his country— his _uncle_.

“The world doesn’t need more war and death, but Kuei wants it because my sister is mad… I wish she could have just made the best of things… I don’t know why she always had to… and I’ll never forgive her,” Zuko stated coldly, reaching his wife’s gaze. “I don’t know how to stop loving people. I loved my father while I plotted to kill him. I loved him while he lit my face on fire, and I loved him when he killed my own mother before my eyes. I was ashamed- but I still did. It’s my biggest weakness,” admitted Zuko.

“But don’t confuse it for blind loyalty, or forgiveness,” Zuko assured her. “What Azula did to you, how she tried to kill you, and she killed your innocent, kind, loving father… I can never forgive her,” Zuko stated firmly. “I know my uncle cannot either,” Zuko added, sighing deeply.

He yearned to tell her of the heartache some of her people had put him through, while he had absolutely no one to turn to while she grieved. He didn’t blame anyone, per se, except maybe Azula. He knew Katara was mourning; he knew the people were hurt and warranted in it too. But, it still hurt him. The hatred, the wishes and threats for his death, the slurs, the things thrown at him as he passed by, how he was too terrified to go outside alone at night now, even cautious in the day. But, he didn’t want to hurt her— they’d just gotten back into the beginning of finding their loving complacency again. He couldn’t risk tarnishing that. She held no fault in it whatsoever, and he didn’t want to dredge up any falsely-seeded feelings of guilt.

Instead he smiled, leaning his head against hers tenderly, kissing her lips, “I’ll tell you, love. Thank you… you can always tell me anything, too. _Anything_ under the sun.”


	25. Chapter 25

She was horrendously nervous, to the point that her legs shook beneath her weigh as Katara walked across the meeting room. The eyes of war chiefs followed her path— Katara forced confidence to her face. It’s what her father would do; he’d square up his shoulders and set his jaw, no matter how shallow his courage ran.

 _You lead them with your emotions,_ he’d said. _What you feel, they feel. Make them feel brave. Make them feel proud_. Katara took her seat and looked up, her gaze piercing the room, her lips in a tight line to give away none of the trepidation she felt.

Her husband needed this. His people needed this. The world needed this. A long, drawn-out war, after a hundred years of bloodshed, would do no good, no matter the prejudices that lingered beneath the ice.

Katara repeated all the reasons to herself, gathering her breath, finding her voice: “The Earth King has declared war on the Fire Nation.”

She watched as the men sat up straighter, as eyes widened and mouths fell open. A murmur rippled through them, questions lingering in the air. They were waiting for her, looking to her for the answers.

“I know many of you have lost your sons to the Fire Nation; your brothers and your fathers. I know your pain. I’ve lost mine, too,” Katara said, gritting her teeth as her eyes watered. “That does not mean the King’s war is just.“ 

“Princess Azula was _alone_ in her actions,” Katara stated, not letting the war chiefs have a word over her. “She acted rashly and irresponsibly, focused solely on weakening the Water Tribe and its alliances, and now, the Earth King has broken a world wide treaty to—”

“She killed Hakoda,” one man spat, springing to his feet. “She killed our chief! You’re acting as though—”

 _“I_ am your chief, Arrluk,” Katara said, standing herself. “Hakoda was _my_ father, but he is gone. His reign passed to me, and now, my word is your law.” She pinned the war chief with a glare. _“Sit down.”_

Arrluk struggled, grinding his teeth, fighting the urge to defy her. Something made him give in, whether it be her authority or that he’d have to duel her to take any authority away— and he wouldn’t win. Arrluk sank to the cushion at his feet, hard, blue eyes turned to the floor.

Katara pursed her lips. “I married the Fire Nation’s prince in the name of peace. I agreed to spend my life with him, to bear children for him, to honor him, all so the world would not have to face another campaign like that of Fire Lord Azulon.”

“By saving my life, Prince Zuko made it clear where his loyalties lie. Through continued peace talks and negotiations, our sister tribe and the Fire Nation have both sworn their continued cooperation. They have upheld their part of the treaty and we will do that same.”

Katara looked around the room, meeting the gaze of every man aside from Arrluk. She could see apprehension in their eyes. She respected that. None _wanted_ a war; war was simply necessary.

“You have one week to ready your militias,” she said. “We set sail on the full moon, to aid the Fire Nation in their defense against the Earth King’s army.” 

* * *

Zuko was prohibited from the council room for obvious reasons. He couldn’t even blame Katara or anyone else. Things might get rowdy, destructive, rioting even. Katara, and himself, doubted people would take well to fighting alongside some of the same men who killed their own. Zuko hoped they could at least understand. Waging more war would be so painfully counterproductive to all the efforts made to end the death and devastation. Azula acted alone, and the Fire Nation still swore its unwavering loyalty to the treaties and to the Harmony Restoration Movement. They were sending double reparations, despite their faltering budget and economy, just to emphasize their apology and devotion to the cause. 

For the Earth Kingdom, that was not enough. Zuko prayed it would be for the Southern Water Tribe. 

While the meeting commenced, Zuko went out to the stable where Druk lived. Druk seemed like the only person who could calm his nerves while the fate of his people was played out inside the meeting room. Zuko sat with the dragon, and rambled off to him about how concerned he was for this war, no matter whose side the South lied with, this war would still be ugly– and his wife was pregnant. There could not be a more inopportune time, and Zuko was afraid. He was afraid for his wife, his uncle, his cousin, and his in-laws. He hoped this could be ended sooner than later with the entire world against the Earth Kingdom, forcing them to cease and desist with negotiations and less bloodshed, as soon as possible. 

As Zuko stroked the dragon’s head and nearly dozed off, one of the caretakers stumbled into the stable. It was Juruk, a kind, older man who also took care of the reindeer and polar bear dogs. Zuko trusted the man with Druk, and he stirred him awake. 

“Prince Zuko, don’t you have any work to do?” teased the old man, grabbing some food for the dragon, and placing it in his feed. Druk jumped up instantly in excitement, knocking Zuko over and causing the old man to laugh. “See! Your dragon agrees, wake up, Prince Zuko!”

Zuko smirked, clapping off the dirt from his hands as he teasingly side-eyed the elder. “I can’t do much with this meeting going on. I hardly slept, that’s how I dozed off now,” retorted Zuko playfully while Druk munched at his food hungrily. Juruk patted the dragon’s scaly head, and clapped Zuko’s shoulder. 

“They aren’t _fools_ , my men,” Juruk spoke, “They’ll be bitter, but they’ll reason, and things will calm down, Prince Zuko,” Juruk assured him. “Don’t fret.”

Zuko shrugged with a deep sigh, half-smiling at the old man, “I hope you’re right.”

“I am, you’ll see,” he assured him, watching with a smirk as Druk  licked his feed clean, but Druk was visibly unclean. “I’m going to take this fella out for a bath, I think. It’s a pretty sunny day, and we’ll go over to the springs. Druk loves the springs,” Juruk spoke, scratching behind his ear. 

Zuko smiled, stroking the dragon affectionately. “I know he does,” Zuko said with a laugh, “And, no offense, buddy, but you could use it,” Zuko quipped, noting the dirt on his back and between his wings. “Thank you, Juruk, thank you for taking care of him so well,” Zuko spoke sincerely, noting the kindness of the people of the Southern Tribe. Katara was right, they were a stern people, but they loved and protected their own. At least to some, Zuko had become _their own._

Juruk told Zuko that taking care of Druk was a pleasure, and Zuko hugged the dragon goodbye as they set off for the hot springs up the nearby mountain. Zuko took a deep breath then, glancing at the sundial at the window, and figuring the meeting must be close to concluded by now. Zuko took a deep and shaky breath then, and talked himself into going outside. He threw his scarf over his neck, and buttoned his coat with trembling fingers. 

Zuko stepped outside, headed for the palace when he felt his neck choke, the woolen edges of his scarf tugged against him, making him gag and reach, grasping at brisk, thin air desperately and instinctively as adrenaline coursed his veins. He felt fists at his back, making him gasp chokingly on the scarf before collapsing limply, crunching into the snow which muffled the thud. 

The prince laid on the ground, ice pricking at his face as his eyes darted around in a frenzy, wide and frightened. He couldn’t move a muscle– he’d been chi-blocked, and he couldn’t even see his attacker. He didn’t know their motive, who they were, if they were a man or a woman, nothing. All he knew was that he couldn’t move, he couldn’t bend, and his face was cut in the ice. Zuko could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he could hear it too amongst white noise, and his breath was rapid in fear as he tried to catch it. 

There was more than one, he discovered, because he felt two hands pull him by the ankles, scraping his face against the ice, and he saw footprints in front of him– then two more, and another pair… and one more. There were four people in on this ambush, and Zuko hadn’t a clue what they wanted with him, but it was nothing friendly. 

He tried to squirm free, and his fingers clawed into the ice, but he was stunted by the chi-block, and it was all futile as they pulled him into Druk’s stable. Even his voice betrayed him as he tried to yell for help, and he could hear their muffled voices– boisterous laughter. It was _disgusting_ and it made Zuko’s stomach twist into anxious knots that made him want to scream, but fuck– fuck, he couldn’t even _whimper_.

He wished Druk was still here, or Juruk. But, this was calculated. They were intentional in their kidnapping. They’d deliberately waited for any witness to leave, anyone who would help. 

Zuko was thrown into the mucky, cold hay, and one of the men– he was a soldier. Zuko saw the tail end of his coat. The soldier boarded up the door to the barn. Zuko felt another jolt of fear, and tried to scramble– to bend, to do _something_ , but he could only crawl with his arms about a foot forward, only to fall in exhaustion at one of the other men’s feet. 

The man snickered, and kicked Zuko over so he was staring at the ceiling. Zuko was panting, afraid, and praying that the chi-block would wear off so he could fry them all to a crisp. There were three soldiers there, and one admiral, a man from Hakoda’s chamber, a loyal, older man who had been Hakoda’s close friend since he was in his twenties. He served on Katara’s cabinet now, too. He must’ve been at the meeting. He must’ve hated what he heard– he hated him, Zuko, for it. It was Councilman Arrluk, also a naval captain. He was a revered man in the Southern Water Tribe, enamored with dozens of medals and rankings. What was such an honored man doing with the man married to his Chieftess? The de facto king of his country?

Arrluk was smirking, and he took Zuko by the coat collar, pulling him up viscously to his face where he could smell his rancid breath, and note every detail of his decaying teeth. “Your people raped and killed my wife, and my daughters, and now that bitch wife of yours expects me to serve along your kin? That whore only wants us to because of you. Because of you, your sister, your people, my best friend is dead too. That bitch expects me to defend the men who raped and killed my family? I’ll rot in hell before I do, and before I rot in hell, I’ll show you what you ashmakers have done. I’ll let you experience what you did to my wife– to my baby girls.”

It all became clear then, and Zuko threw himself to the side, trying to break free of his hold once he realized what was happening. His heartrate picked up even faster, and at the look of terror on Zuko’s face, and the feeling of nausea at the anticipation of the atrocities to come, Arrluk just chuckled warmly, like he was telling a story at a pub to his friends. Maybe that’s what he planned on this being once he was through, a funny story for his mates at the pub over a pint on the rocks. 

“All these boys, too, have lost someone, or been hurt irreparably by you and yours,” spat Arrluk. “I’m going to let them all have a taste of what you’ve done– and give you what you deserve. It’s only due justice, Prince Zuko. It’s not all that personal, an eye for an eye, and what goes around comes around… we’re just givin’ ye a little lesson of the culture here. Take it as a lesson. You’ll make your woman proud,” Arrluk cruelly taunted with another deep chuckle, then throwing Zuko on the ground harshly, turning him over on his back. 

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion from there. Zuko felt the hay prickling his skin, he could smell the fodder and lingering scent of Druk, he could hear the jostling of the men so clearly, and their laughter that was like nails on a chalkboard. Zuko pinched his eyes shut tight, bracing for any pain, but he couldn’t keep his eyes shut for long– the adrenaline pried them open, which made everything worse. 

One of the soldiers pushed down on the back of his neck, pinning him to the ground as another took his wrists, pinning them over his head, as Zuko garnered the strength to speak. “Shit! Fuck, stop!” screamed Zuko hoarsely, the last man ripping his scarf Katara knitted him from his neck, and gagging him with it to quiet him as he regained his voice and Zuko choked on it, trying to scream– screaming Katara’s name, but it was to no avail. 

He could hear Arrluk pull down his pants, undoing his belt, and Zuko kicked weakly, trying to break free, but it was futile. Arrluk stroked his cock in preparation for his sick attack, and Zuko felt sure he was going to vomit. 

“This is for Alilah, my wife, and Shrulah and Kara, my daughters. This is what we call a fit revenge, Prince Zuko,” Arrluk spat as he huddled over then, tearing down the prince’s pants and Zuko thrusted desperately as he felt the cool air hit him, and he spat at his scarf, trying to use his tongue to get it out as he felt Arrluk’s hand grip his ass, and the tip of his cock positioned. Zuko wondered if this fucked up assault on a man who hadn’t even a clue of these heinous acts was really what Arrluk’s late wife and children would have wanted. He couldn’t imagine anyone but the horridly-corrupted wanting something like this. 

Zuko swallowed thickly, and despite his defiance not to give them anymore satisfaction, a single tear rolled off his cheek, absorbed into the wool of the tattered remains of the scarf Katara had so lovingly made for him. 

Zuko used his jaw to push the scarf, desperately jutting his head at it, and his tongue, and finally he pushed it out of his mouth. Flakes of chaffed strands of wool littered his mouth and tongue, but Zuko didn’t care. He couldn’t bend, but he could move again, and he found that he delayed Arrluk as he cursed, shoving Zuko’s ass down as the other men forced Zuko down again. He couldn’t bend, but they hadn’t realized the scarf was gone from his lips, and he could move once more, even if weakly– and even more weak than usual too, as his heart was still healing, his body still frailler. 

Zuko tried to be calculated with his one cry for help, but when he felt Arrluk’s erection against him in some sort of tease, Zuko screamed. “Katara! Hel—!” Zuko shouted at the top of his lungs, the sound of his voice blood-curtailing, before Arrluk spat at his minions, and they covered his mouth, but it was then there was a rattling at the door, a thundered banging. 

* * *

 

"Zuko?” Katara pounded on the stable door.

Her stomach swam with dread. It had been, since she saw Druk leave the stables with Juruk, but Zuko never followed. He _always_ followed. He rarely let the dragon out of sight when he had the free time to spare with him.

She’d left her office and the palace, forgoing her coat in the rush to get across the palace grounds. Katara knew her people were angry. She knew it was dangerous, even in the daylight, to let her Fire Nation husband wander alone.

When he was with Druk, Katara didn’t worry, but he wasn’t. Druk was gone, and her husband was…? She banged on the door again.

“Zuko?”

That’s when she heard it, her name coming out with a blood-curling scream from within the stables. Scuffling followed it, cutting off the shout. She could hear the gruff voices of men, jeers and scrambling.

Katara didn’t think anything more. Shards of ice splintered the wood before her. She ripped the doors open, her eyes adjusting to the dim barn light as she marched inside.

There was nothing to be seen, nothing— until she moved deeper, following the hissed abuse that sent shivers down her spine. She rounded on a dirty stall, on three men pinning her husband to the ground and Arrluk with his pants around his thighs.

Her eyes went wide. A curse tore from her throat: _“What the fuck!?”_

They all startled. The three holding Zuko bolted. Katara spun after them,  throwing a barrage of ice through the air. She found her target, hitting one so hard in the head, he crumbled to the ground instantly. The remained two were so unfortunate as to live, only falling due to the strain of injury: a shard through the calf of one, a bolt in the shoulder of the other.

Red blood spilled from where they lay, whimpering in pain, but it was nothing like what she did to Arrluk.

He’d scrambled as soon as she had his attention, hurrying away from Zuko, hiding himself behind his hands, then tugging up his pants. But there was no where to run. Katara had him cornered.

Arrluk went on the offensive, but Katara blocked his attack like he was no more than a child. Her lips curled into a sneer and she growled, “You assault my husband, then me? _Your chief?”_

Katara trapped his feet in ice, then, as he fell forward, his hands, pinning him to the ground like a dog.

Arrluk spat at her, “You’re no chief of mine! You're no better than a bitch, a pregnant _whore_  whose power has gone to her deluded head. You think we’ll fight with those pigs? You think we’ll defend the men who raped and killed our own—”

“And now, you think I’ll defend _you—”_ Katara advanced on the man. He tried to fight free, but her hold was stronger than his even greatest bending. “—a soldier who assaults and rapes _my_ own _,_ who assaults me.”

She reached him and yanked his head up by his hair, her free hand coaxing a blade of ice into existence.

“You’ve committed treason, Arrluk, and you know the price.” Katara pressed the blade to his throat, watched his eyes widen and his face flush a deep red as adrenaline flooded through his veins. Then, sheer terror bloomed in his gaze.

His blood spilled over Katara’s hand, running down her forearms, dripping to the floor from the point of her elbow. She leaned forward, her lips to his ear. “I am not a merciful Chief.”

* * *

Zuko lied almost paralyzed on the ground. He could move again physically, but he was stunned still, breathing thickly as his sideways gaze watched Katara take down the soldiers. His heartbeat hadn’t slowed in its pace at all. He watched in awe as the men hit the ground, the one– dead. Zuko winced, his fingers gripping the hay in his fist tightly. Despite their atrocities against him, he could hardly watch. Despite all the death and gore he’d seen in war, he still hated it. It still made his gut clench. 

When Katara grabbed Arrluk, Zuko gasped, turning his head quickly when she shot the spear of ice through his head. Zuko was still shaking. He felt like if he moved, he’d be damned. He still was in shock; he was still in a phase of self-defense. His eyes were wide, and he swallowed thickly. His pants were still pulled down to his knees in the muddy hay, and he was struggling to catch his breath. 

Katara had come in the nick of time. If she hadn’t been there right when she had… he didn’t even want to think of how much worse it would have been for him. It was bad enough. He didn’t think he’d ever step outside without her again. His head was spinning, and there was a lump on the back from where he fell, and was thrown. His face was scraped to bits from being dragged on the unscarred side, his lip was bloody, his neck was black and blue from where the man had gripped him like a vice, as were his wrists and ankles, and there were bruises on his hips as well. 

Zuko could still hear his heartbeat and his head pounding, and he didn’t even conceptualize how much time had passed as he pulled himself to his feet slowly and wobbling. He grabbed a wooden post, and it felt like lifting a ton of bricks as he dragged himself upright to stand. Zuko gripped the post with one hand to balance himself, and pulled up his pants, buttoning them, still so shocked and so terribly, terribly shaken– trembling. 

His eyes were distant in fright, his pants wouldn’t button right from being torn, and his scarf was ruined. His coat had holes from where he was dragged violently, and he’d lost a shoe amidst it all. Zuko just put his fingers on his nose, still not processing all that had happened yet. He looked over at Katara, dropping his hand, and tried to speak. All that came out was a feeble croak, and he cleared his throat. 

“Are– are you okay, Katara?” he asked, “I… I’m sorry.”

* * *

She’d almost forgotten her husband. In the rush of the fight, between the roaring in her ears and the rushing breaths in her lungs, Katara has all but lost sight of what brought her here. Zuko’s forlorn, hollow call snapped her back.

“Zuko.” Katara wiped her hand on her dress, smearing the blue with blood. She turned, shame coloring her eyes, and faced him. “I— I’m okay. Are you okay?”

She swallowed the fury that lingered in her chest. If Katara had her way, if Zuko was fine— she knew he wasn’t— she’d lord over the two living soldiers and drain the blood from their veins with slowness and cruelty. But, they weren’t going anywhere, she mused, casting a glance at the moaning men. Katara pulled her gaze away, going to her husband as bile poisoned the back of her tongue.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, cupping his cheek. He stood a head taller than her, but now… right now, he looked small. “Zuko, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here. I shouldn’t have kept you out of the meeting or even let you out of the palace. My love…”

Katara softened, running her fingers over the shallow scrapes and bruises on Zuko’s face. “I can heal these,” she said, sighing worriedly. “I’ll take you back to the palace. Come on.”

* * *

Zuko leaned into her touch, relishing in the gentleness of it. From how roughly he’d just been thrown around like a worthless piece of meat, her tender touch became everything. Zuko let out a shaky sigh, and his shaking hand covered hers as he slowly nodded.

He was still trembling and he was still shocked. He was tense and incredibly anxious. Zuko felt like he might throw up. So much had happened in a matter of minutes.

When they walked through the palace, Zuko was deeply ashamed. It was obvious, at least, he’d been attacked, and he had to grip at his pants to keep them up. He flushed a deep red with shame as he walked closely to Katara through the corridors. He didn’t want to waver from her now, especially when he caught people smirking and snickering when he passed. They hated him so, some delighted at his humbled, degraded state.

It made Zuko inhale sharply to steady himself and he was glad when they reached their bedroom. Zuko was out of breath from walking here, still weak from the lightning, and shaken from his assault. It was all still so harrowing.

Zuko walked to their bedroom door and locked it shakily with a deadbolt. He was paranoid now. He didn’t trust anyone except Katara. He didn’t even trust Juruk now. Pakku proved he loathed him a month ago.

He turned, looking at his wife in concern. His eyes were blatantly laced with fear and pain. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, recognizing how crazy he must look. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m sorry,” clarified Zuko, taking a deep breath before staring out the window.

He walked to it, trying to process the afternoon. He was lucky he told himself. There was no reason to be so shaken up, Katara had stopped them. He was being dramatic. He told himself that as his hand nervously fingered the velvet curtain.

“The snow is so pretty when the sun hits it,” Zuko arbitrarily remarked, watching it glisten. “It’s a beautiful day… a nice day to go ice fishing… or penguin sledding,” whispered Zuko. “Maybe when they’re old enough, we can take our baby on days like these,” Zuko whispered. He allowed a beat of steady silence to pass.

“I wonder when Druk will be back from his bath,” Zuko spoke, his eyes clouding with tears, and he pursed his lips to hold them in. A beat passed, and he continued, “it was so funny— he was so dirty, you- you should’ve seen him, Kat… I- I know how he loves you so, not as much as me, mind you,” teased Zuko with an airy chuckle, then tapered, then choked into a sob.

Zuko put his hand over his forehead, the free one still on the curtain as he turned to bury his face in it shamefully. He didn’t want to worry her. She had a war to lead- she didn’t need a fucking whining grown man. This was expected.

But, despite himself, Zuko choked on the heavy sobs, holding it in silently as he wet the curtain, and he bitterly and against his will sobbed again.

“I’m sorry,” rasped Zuko. “I’m so, so sorry.”

* * *

“Why are you sorry?” Katara crossed the room, taking Zuko by the arms and coaxing him from the window. “Love, why are you sorry? You don’t _need_ to be sorry.” 

She brushed her fingers under his chin, making him meet her gaze. His eyes were puffy and red, his cheeks wet. There was no hiding that he was upset, shaken, and nervous. Her heart broke for him.  

Skimming her hands down his, Katara gave Zuko’s fingers a squeeze, then pulled him towards their bed. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she told him, tugging him down so her chest cradled his head. 

“You didn’t, love. In fact, there was nothing you could’ve done. There was nothing expected to be done,” she assured him, stroking his hair. She reached for one of his hands, placing it over the slight swell of her belly, hoping that would soothe him as fresh tears came. 

Katara kissed the top of his head. “What those men wanted to do to you is sick. It’s… it’s a sick, old tradition that was outlawed before my father’s birth, even. I can’t believe the— I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “But, you… you don’t need to be sorry.”

* * *

Zuko fell into’s his wife’s embrace like a zombie, being pulled there to the bed. But, once she pressed his head against her chest, he crumbled, and the pain felt more palpable than numb, and he let it ache. He allowed himself to shake, let the walls of strength tumble down, he let himself be vulnerable with her as he clutched her dress tightly.

His hand fell over her slightly-swelled belly, and he pressed his face deeper against her chest, nuzzling his face against hers. “Kat… what if our baby is a firebender? What will they do to them? They hate me so much, just as your husband… I’m just a powerless figurepiece here, unofficially-officially to make your babies– at least to them, and they hate me so much,” he choked out. “What will they do when it’s a prince or princess? Their bloodline now mixed with mine… even if they are a waterbender– they’re half Fire Nation, still, by ethnicity,” cried Zuko, panic overtaking him as visions of the assault overplayed.

He lifted his head, tearstung and red, to look at her. “I wasn’t fully honest last night, Kat,” admitted Zuko. “I didn’t want to worry you, or be selfish. Your father was gone, and what– I couldn’t handle some namecalling? I couldn’t— and I didn’t want to attack your people, and… but, dammit, Kat… dammit, they hate my fucking guts,” Zuko cried. “Since Hakoda was killed, people have thrown things at me, they call me… any name you can think of… bastard, ashmaker, murderer, warmonger, everything, and they shove me, and threaten me, and Pakku, that night, the funeral– he looked at me like dirt was worth more. That’s how everyone looks at me now,” Zuko cried. “They were all so kind and welcoming, but now I might as well have killed Hakoda myself.”

Zuko shook his head, choking another sob. “I was ready to die for their now-queen, and they think I– some think I was in cahoots with Azula– I didn’t. I would never! They want me dead. The healer when you went to prepare for your dad’s funeral told me she’d kill me if you wouldn’t kill her in turn. I’m terrified to go outside. I’m scared to walk to the wash room or the kitchen! Today just proved that I was right to be scared. I shouldn’t have even went to Druk’s stable! Alone! I’m an idiot! I should have known better, so I am sorry! I’m sorry because this was predictable, and I’m so fucking stupid, I walked right into it!” Zuko cried, working himself up as he went on, now an entire hot mess of tears and labored breaths as it all finally hit him at once like a ton of bricks, and he shook his head in shame at his pitiful state.

“I’m so sorry… and I’m so worried about our baby. I’m worried about you too– this war… my uncle, my cousin, Yue… their kids… what now? Katara, I’m scared.”

* * *

“The war is a non-issue,” Katara said, smoothing Zuko’s tunic and stroking his back. “Don’t worry about the war. King Keui is a coward; he’ll likely surrender the second he sees our ships on the horizon.”

Her lips curled into a proud smile before seriousness settled in her lungs. A weighted sigh left her feeling empty. “I wish you’d told me all of this sooner. I could’ve done something.”

“My father’s death was like salt being rubbed in an nearly healed wound, but nearly-healed or not, the sting is the same when faced with something so abrasive. That doesn’t make my people right.” Katara swallowed as her eyes searched the ceiling. She tried to think of what Hakoda would say, if his wife were dealing with such bigotry, while her gaze lingered on the wood grain overhead.

“I… I can let you go home…” she suggested. “At least for a while, until the hard hearts here soften. You’ll be safe there, and no one will question the excuse of a diplomatic mission, not right now.” 

* * *

Zuko rose his head, and shook it as he looked at her with glassy eyes. He inhaled shakily, and wiped at his face, trying to reel himself in, but his hands still trembled, and his heart still raced. His stomach was still in knots and he didn’t want to even fetch a drink of water without her as an escort. Zuko let out a deep sigh, and gripped her hand, trying to support her, but searching for it himself as well. 

Zuko squeezed her hand, and shook it again, “I can’t leave you,” he whispered. “I refuse to leave you when you have a war to deal with. I won’t leave your side, not after all you’ve done to protect my homeland, my family… me… I refuse to abandon you,” Zuko stated in a murmur, wiping at his cheek as he felt it dampen again. 

“Besides… they’ll be suspicious… they’ll probably accuse me of… I don’t know, teaming up with Azula’s minions,” Zuko whispered. “I don’t even… if the Earth King is sending ships to the Fire Nation, it won’t be safe there either,” he added. “No where is safe right now, and… you’re my family now, too, Katara. I won’t leave you alone in this. I won’t do it,” Zuko choked out, his hand gripping hers like a vice as another sob built in his throat, and he rose his free hand to cover his face. 

* * *

It was with a sigh of relief that Katara nodded. He was staying. _He would_ stay. The loneliness that threatened faded into the background; Katara relaxed.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her lips pressed to the top of his head. A part of her wanted to curl up into him, to be held herself— Katara hadn’t expected the visceral reaction to the prospect of Zuko leaving, but she had expected him to go. What did he have here? Aside from a wife that’d spent a month avoiding him, clamming up around him?

But he was staying with her, and Katara let herself rest assured in that, her fingers twisted in his hair and holding Zuko closer.

“I’ll speak to them, okay?“ she said, trying to explain. "I’ll tell what you did. Almost no one knows, and that’s my fault. They witnessed my father die by Azula’s hand, then suddenly, you vanished, too.”

Katara bit her lip, hating herself now. “You were healing. No one can blame you, but I should’ve— I—”

“It’s my fault,” she said, after a moment of holding her breath. "Some of it is, anyway. I closed myself off from you, from everyone. I didn’t pay attention, and I could’ve done something, _said_ something. I could’ve changed this whole siutation for you.” 

“I’m sorry, Zuko. I’m sorry this has been so hard and so heavy.” Katara kissed his hair, praying he’d forgive her. “I’ll make it right, I promise. And the war— give it a month, maybe two. The Earth Kingdom will wish they’d never left their walls.“

* * *

Zuko stayed close in her arms, not wanting to move ever again. It was the one place he still felt safe. She made him feel safe, and no one else could. He curled into her and let out a shaky breath. He hadn’t known that no one knew, but he didn’t really care. That wasn’t why he did what he did. Tears wet his wife’s already-bloodstained dress as he leaned his face against her chest. 

“I didn’t do it to be… some _hero_ , or something,” explained Zuko, shaking his head. “It isn’t your fault… you had enough going on than to worry about my reputation. That’s trivial in the scheme of things,” he whispered, and it wasn’t. Even if he was lonely, he understood why she cloistered herself in. He didn’t fault her for it. “I didn’t even think that day. All I could think was that, no matter what, you had to be okay– and I didn’t care what the cost. I didn’t care about anything else, and I just knew that if it hit me, it wouldn’t hit you, and… if I died, so be it– you wouldn’t,” Zuko whispered, tears falling in droplets from his eyes as he looked down at her growing belly and the tears seeped into her skirt, and his gaze moved to the blood on her gown. 

“I’m just scared for our baby, Katara,” Zuko admitted. “If she– or he– is a firebender… they’ll hate them,” he murmured. “They might hate any baby… they’ll be half Fire Nation,” Zuko explained. “What do we do?” he asked, wiping his tears desperately before pinching his eyes. 

“I want them _dead_ ,” Zuko said vindictively. He was angry, humiliated, degraded, objectified, hurt, and so angry. All his anger at his mistreatment that he’d written off and excused came barreling through into those men who’d tried to strip him of the last piece of dignity he had. They did it with laughter, and Zuko, who was usually forgiving and soft, wanted them dead– was glad Katara killed them. “Maybe they have a right to all hate me because I’m glad you killed them. I’m glad they’re dead. I don’t want people like them around when our child is born,” Zuko spat bitterly, tears falling in hurt anger as his face scowled. 

“I just want this war to end. I don’t want to wipe the Earth Kingdom off the face of the earth. I just want them to retreat. I want them to stop this nonsense– there has been far too much death, pain, suffering… too much,” Zuko choked out, shaking his head. “I’m… I’m tired, and the world is tired too. The Earth King is a fool– he should be ashamed. It was harder for you, took more honor, more integrity, and you had every _ounce_ of it and _then some_. You never declared war, and the Earth King… he’s a fool– sentencing his own to death over a lone wolf,” Zuko ranted, angry, still upset, and still shaken. Everything was hitting him at once in a barrage and he was still shaking from his assault. 

“You’re a good person, Katara,” Zuko stated, looking up at her then, meeting her gaze. “You’re a better person than I deserve– than this… fucked world deserves. I’m proud of you, no matter how down on yourself you feel. This is more than anyone should have to handle their first month as a ruler, but you’ve handled it all with grace and strength and bravery… and wisdom– so far beyond your years,” Zuko reassured her. “ _I love you_ , and I’m more than proud to say you’re mine.”


	26. Chapter 26

Zuko’s admission that he wanted the men dead echoed in Katara’s ears. She spent the rest of the evening with him, curled up in their bed, soothing him, but the thought didn’t wane.

The two soldiers left alive were being held in palace’s very own cells. It’d only been hours since the assault; she didn’t need to act, yet… though she’d been mulling over the idea of banishment, thinking it more _diplomatic._

But, if Zuko wanted them dead— she told Arrluk she wasn’t merciful. Her father never was. Kind, yes. Just, always. But, he was never merciful. He doled out justice to those who deserved it, and the justice matched the crime. These men had committed treason.

The longer she pondered it, the more Katara agreed with Zuko. She was angry, angry for her husband and angry that her own soldiers, men she trusted with her life, would betray her so greatly.   

After Zuko fell asleep, Katara went to her office, first writing to the Northern Tribe and the Fire Nation, informing them of her decision to sail west and stop the Earth King. Then, she had a memo released among her guard, ordering them to prepare for an execution in the morning.

She left her office to take the winding stairs down to the palace’s dungeon. Azula was kept at the far end, isolated, except for the four guards standing outside her door. The princess was too unstable to escape, but Katara still refused to take any chances.

Katara skipped over Azula’s cell, though, and went to the one holding the two men who’d assaulted her husband. They were bound at the wrist and weak from their injuries, but both glared up at her with hatred in their eyes.

She only quirked a brow, her lips set in a thin line. “You understand that disciplinary actions must taken, I presume? You probably expect a lashing, maybe banishment, or maybe I’ll just hold here forever.”

“I’ll admit, I was undecided for a while. My attention was focused on my husband and his needs,” she said. “Prince Zuko wants you dead… ”

Katara saw their confidence falter. There was malice in her voice; she couldn’t blame them. She smirked, turned on her heel and marched towards the stairwell.

Over her shoulder, she called: "You’re going to die tomorrow, Nanuq, Kato. Sleep well.“ 

* * *

Zuko had finally dozed off in Katara’s arms, into an albeit, fitful, sleep. Visions on the prior assault plagued his mind and had him tossing and turning. But, it wasn’t until a nightmare stole his breath, and he rolled over to hold his wife– that he noticed he was met with an indent in the mattress instead of her body. “Kat…?” muttered Zuko, rubbing his eyes.

 

He sighed, and threw his feet over the bed, pinching his eyes, then the bridge of his nose. “Love?” called Zuko softly, getting up and looking around for her. He didn’t know where she’d gone, maybe just to their private washroom down the hall. But, he was terrified, now, to even go down the corridor alone.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting, but she never came back. He was parched, but going to get a glass of water was out of the question, not alone. He had to shake this fear, but tonight, he couldn’t reason with himself that he was being unreasonable. He’d gone out alone for the first time in forever, and when he did, in broad daylight, with their queen– his wife– out and about, and he’d been assaulted, only seconds away from being gang raped.

 

The memory had buds of sweat forming on his skin over his temples, and he tensed when the door began to jangle. Zuko only sighed in relief when Katara came through the door. It’d been at least forty minutes.

 

“Katara,” Zuko spoke, letting his shoulders fall, relieved. “Where on earth did you go at such an hour? I know you’re up late, but it’s well past two am now,” Zuko said to her, “I don’t mean to pester you, I just was worried,” he apologized, rubbing his forehead. “N-Never mind, then… I’m glad you’re all right.”

* * *

“I had work to do, Zuko. I took an entire afternoon off,” Katara answered, closing the door behind her. The lock clicked audibly, followed by an irritated, little sigh from her. She tried to suppress it, plastering a soft smile on her lips before coming back to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, tucking herself under the blankets. Katara reached for his hand. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone. I didn’t think you’d wake up, honestly. You were sound asleep.” 

* * *

Guilt clenched in his chest when she spoke of how she took an afternoon off. Katara probably had a thousand and one things to do. She was the leader of a nation preparing for war, and likely felt obligated to sit in here with her sulking spouse. He should’ve assured her that she could have left after she healed his abrasions and contusions. He shouldn’t have acted like a wounded puppy. He was a grown man.

 

“I’m sorry, Katara,” whispered Zuko. “You could’ve gone to work while I rested in here. I– I didn’t mean to hold you up, or… or make you feel like you had to stay here. Don’t feel that way,” he replied, hoping his words assured her of that as he chewed on his lip guiltily, and tried to play himself off more collected than he felt.

 

He followed her into bed and squeezed Katara’s hand when she reached for his own. Zuko glanced at her quickly, then shook his head. “I suppose I’m just a light sleeper. I’m sorry I was acting paranoid. Of course you can leave me alone. I’m sorry for being so childish… I know you’re busy. I–” Zuko stammered, sighing. “Just, let me know if you need help with anything. I’ll help you.”

* * *

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Katara muttered. She rubbed at her face, trying to clear her dark mood. “I don’t mean to be short with you. It’s been a stressful day, but I’m here, okay? I won’t leave again without telling you first.”

She dropped her hand to her belly, pulling her nightgown up to rub her bare skin. Goosebumps followed her fingers over the slight swell. She was somewhere around three months along, if Katara guessed right, and barely showed; but already, she was brimming with love and hope for her child.  

They’d give him or her a good life, a happy one. Katara prayed for it everyday and right then, closing her eyes with peaceful sigh.

“Feel,” she said, when she looked at Zuko, again. Katara tugged on his hand, placing his palm flat on her stomach. He’d done it a hundred times, mostly without thinking, but this time, Katara wanted it to be deliberate. She wanted him to feel what she did, the calm, innocent life they’d made.

She smiled as some of the panic left Zuko’s gaze. “He’s going to love you. Or she. Our baby will love you, Zuko, more than any other person alive.”

* * *

Zuko smiled warmly at his wife as she took his hand and placed it over her growing belly, which held the growing life of their child. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned his head against hers. Zuko ran soothing circles on Katara’s belly, smiling at the thought of raising their child together– and how close of a reality that truly was, despite the harsh times they’d now come across. 

“I don’t know,” teased Zuko, “I think they’ll love you the most,” he retorted, pecking her cheek gently. “Of course, no one could love you more than I do,” he added playfully, draping his arm over her then, and nuzzling against her. 

“I’m worried for our baby, Kat,” Zuko admitted once more. “I hope they don’t hate them the way they hate me,” he whispered. “I hope things quiet by then… the war is through… all of this is behind us,” he murmured, holding her more tightly subconsciously. 

“I want to give our child a _good_ life.”

* * *

“It’ll be fine. My due date isn’t for another six months,” Katara protested, rolling away. She curled up onto her side and tugged the blankets to her chin. “Things are only tense _right now._ They won’t be forever.”

“And you know as well as I that I’d never let any harm befall my child.” Katara said, her eyes on the distant wall. Her gaze darkened. “Anyone who tries will be put to death. It’s treason.”

She let out a sigh, her thoughts drifting to the executions in the morning. The weight of it all bore down her lungs, but Katara swallowed the sinking sensation. She had to be strong for her husband. She had to be strong for everyone, because the lot of them couldn’t give her a _moment’s_ reprieve.

Katara grumbled under her breath, but covered it by fluffing her pillow. “Just go to sleep, Zuko. I promise things will be better tomorrow. They always are.”

* * *

Zuko’s heart sunk when Katara pulled from him and rolled over. He quieted, though, not wanting to upset her. He stayed, lying on his back, and staring at the darkened, wood ceiling of their bedroom. His fist clenched the top of the covers tightly before he released it in defeat. 

She was clearly irritated with him, and this was only their second night back together in a month. He was worried things would never be the same, that what had happened had permanently offset her from him. Zuko told himself that she just needed more time. “Okay,” whispered Zuko, holding back an apology, letting his eyes fall shut with a sigh. 

“I love you, Katara– Goodnight,” Zuko muttered, met with silence, which turned to the quiet hum of crickets out the window and his determination to sleep was met with a blank stare at the ceiling full of dread, horrid memories of the day behind him, and eventually the creeping in of daylight without any rest. 

He threw his legs over the bed quietly, trying not to disturb her as it was so early still. But, he was antsy from lying in bed with his anxieties plaguing him all night long.  Zuko wanted to get up, get some tea, and bring some to Katara. He wanted to watch out the window as the sun fully rose and eat the special, Water Tribe pastry dish for breakfast with a daily scroll. But, he was too terrified to leave the bedroom alone, and he hated himself. He felt weak, ashamed, and small. He hated feeling that way, but he settled on an old scroll, and still yet sitting in the soft chair by the fire at the window while a fresh blanket of snow was built upon the ground. 

* * *

“Zuko?” Katara mumbled into her pillow. She’d shifted in her sleep, wanting to press her feet against his leg for the warmth, and discovered her husband missed. She opened her eyes with a slow blink, registering the glowing pink light from the sunrise and the crackling of a rebuilt fire. 

Katara held the blankets to her chest as she sat up, yawning. “I guess I should be used to you waking up so early. You _think_ I’d be used to it,” she smirked, smiling sleepily. “I still sleep in. Everyone here likes to wait until the sky’s _all the way_ awake.” 

She laughed and left the bed, trailing the comforter behind her like a cape. The wood floor sent shivers up her spine as Katara padded over to Zuko. 

“How are you this morning?” she asked, stooping to peck his cheek. After she straightened, Katara came around the chair and snuck into his lap, finding the warmth she’d coveted in her sleep. “Do you want me to send for tea?” 

* * *

Zuko perked his head from the scroll at the soft call of his name, and a small smile formed on his lips. He yawned as he watched her trail over with her blanket like a cape, making him smirk in amusement. Katara curled into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he leaned in to kiss her. Zuko placed his free hand on her belly, and rubbed soothing circles over her, and his other hand remained on Katara’s back. 

“Good morning, my love,” Zuko whispered groggily, sleepily resting his head on her shoulder. “I’m surprised I haven’t assimilated,” he teased back, glad to have her close in his arms again. Right now, amidst all that had happened in the previous twenty-four hours, and the harsh treatment prior, in Katara’s arms was the last place he felt safe. He knew he’d need to overcome that. He couldn’t cower forever, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself quite to care. 

“Tea sounds lovely.”

* * *

“Wonderful. Ginseng for you, chamomile for me.” Katara pulled away with his peck to his nose. She stuck her head out the door and gave the guard her instructions.

When she came back to Zuko, Katara plopped in the chair opposite him with a loud sigh. “I have a heavy work load today, but you’re more than welcome to sit in my office with me,” she said.

“After the—” Katara hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking away. “I have, _um,_ some business to attend to before I sit down with the paperwork, but it won’t take me long. I’m assuming you’ll want to stay here? I can have your breakfast sent here.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled warmly, leaning in to peck her lips before she pulled away to send the guard to fetch some tea. He smiled at Katara when she sat across from him, and sunk down in his chair with sleepy, droopy eyes, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair, and his cheek pressed against his hand wearily. 

He still caught his wife’s hesitance, and he frowned, dropping his arms and sitting up. What was she keeping from him? Zuko’s hand clutched the end of the arm of the chair nervously. “What is it?” asked Zuko gently, shaking his head. He swallowed thickly, assuming Katara would get irked by him again, but he was too worried not to ask her. Zuko couldn’t sit in here and pace the floor wondering what was awry that she didn’t want him to know. 

“Why–Why don’t you have something to eat too, Kat. It’s easier to think on a full stomach,” Zuko coaxed, inching forward on his chair. 

* * *

“I’d rather not,” she muttered, slouching back and flattening her hands on her belly. She could blame it on the baby; Katara had dealt with a touch of morning sickness a few weeks ago. 

“I don’t really have the stomach for it,” she said, looking down. If Zuko caught her lie, Katara didn’t want to know it. She didn’t want to be obligated to tell him the truth, as it stood a strong chance of upsetting him again. His peace of mind was more important than hers, given what he’d gone through.

She let her cheeks puff out with a sigh, then met Zuko’s gaze. "Don’t worry, okay, my love? Yesterday was difficult for you and the days will continue to be difficult… but I promise it won’t be that way forever.“

“Focus on yourself, on your healing,” Katara said, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. “There’s no need to carry unnecessary burdens, not when you have me to carry them all for you.” 

* * *

Zuko frowned at her refusal to open up to him. He hoped Katara still trusted him like she always had before. He stood up, and walked over to her with a shaky sigh, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his own. “Kat, you can talk to me, please,” cajoled Zuko gently, squeezing her hands tightly with affection. 

“I can shoulder my load, just as I know you can shoulder your own,” he spoke, meeting her gaze. “But, Katara, I’m your husband. I’m supposed to relieve you of some of your own, just as you have of mine,” he whispered. “I want to. I want to help you and be here for you. Please let me,” he urged, his thumbs stroking over her hands.

“I won’t have you take on all of mine… that’s not right, and it’s not right to have you take on yours all by yourself either, Kat. We’re married, Kat. We’re a team,” murmured Zuko. “Our baby needs us to be a team, Katara. I love you, Katara. Let me be here for you.”

* * *

“I love you, too, Zuko. I do,” she whispered, even as she squirmed beneath his touch. Katara pressed her lips together and pulled her hands back, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “There are just some things that… I feel like you’re better off if I keep them to myself.”

Katara chewed on the inside of her cheek, stealing a glance upwards. She could tell Zuko wasn’t happy with her answer. With his furrowed brow and grit jaw, he may have been angry, even. His eyes flashed a bright gold when she met his gaze.

Katara crossed her arms, huffing, “Fine. If you’re going to scowl at me until I answer properly…”

“I’m due to execute Nanu and Kato in an hour,” Katara said. “You told me last night you wanted them dead, and I respect that. I only thought you'd prefer not to hear about it, so you could keep from thinking about what happened… that’s how I deal with things, at least, so forgive me if I’m wrong.”  

* * *

Zuko’s hands dropped at his side, and he leaned back against his feet where he was kneeling. “Oh, I see,” he said quietly, his gaze distant. He looked down, but then pulled his gaze back up to his wife’s. “I was very angry last night. I’m still angry… and I’m still upset… shaken, I guess… afraid, maybe…” he admitted with shame and a sigh. “I hope I’m not being too rash,” Zuko told her, sitting up on his knees again, putting his hand on hers in comfort and support. 

“If you think that it isn’t fully just, that it’s just vengeful of me, then you don’t have to execute them for my sake,” Zuko assured her. “I know you wouldn’t do anything unfair and take a life with such haste, but I fear maybe I would in my moment of spite and anger,” he tried to explain. 

“If I’m the one who implored for their deaths, I feel as though I ought to at least be there to watch it,” he stated. “It’s not fair to have you sit there alone,” he added. “I can come to support you, too, if that’s what you want. I don’t mind- whatever makes this easier on you, that’s what I want.”

* * *

Katara shrugged. “I already killed the other two,” she muttered, glaring at the floor. “In cold blood, too. I don’t see the difference or dilemma in hanging these men, too.”

“Besides, it'd stand as an example, a public example, of what happens when my people cross me.” She set her jaw by gritting her teeth. Katara’s stomach was still uneasy— it didn’t _please_ her to be executing her own men— but her breath came easier with her stressors out in the open.  

She gave Zuko’s hands a pat, then stood up. “I know there’s dissension within the tribe. I’m not naïve. I knew my choice to join the fight with our previous enemy would cause… frustration,” Katara called, rummaging through her wardrobe. “I did hope they’d trust me enough, _respect me_ enough, to know that my decision was wise.”

Katara changed from her slip to a royal blue tunic. Her leggings matched, and she pulled on leather boots and wrist guards, hoping she looked authoritative and intimidating.

“If I can be honest, I’m angry, too,” she admitted, facing her husband. “They hurt you, meaning they hurt me. But it’s more than that— they’re pretending to be so loyal and so proud, but their behavior has only shown the opposite. My father created this treaty. He fought for it. If it weren’t for him, the world would be a mess, regardless of Ozai’s and Azulon’s deaths. We’d still be scrambling to hold everything together, but my father built a new world on nothing but three marriages. It’s like they never loved him at all.” 

* * *

“I was glad,” admitted Zuko, shrugging with her, “I was glad you killed them,” he clarified with a nod, “But, I hate death… I do,” he muttered, shaking his head, confusing himself in his own confections. “I don’t know if that makes any sense… or if it even matters,” Zuko murmured, letting out a deep sigh as he pinched his eyes which suddenly felt too heavy. 

Zuko swallowed thickly, leaning back as he watched his wife dress into clothes that made her appear to be the force to be reckoned with that she was. Zuko stood shakily, watching Katara, feeling proud of her. He wished he had such strength and courage as she did. It touched him that she felt defensive of him, and he agreed– her men were traitors, not only to her, but to Hakoda as well, and they disrespected his memory by mocking what he worked towards. 

Zuko walked towards Katara, untucking her collar from inside, and straightening it, then cupping her neck affectionately and meeting her gaze. His own was bloodshot with weariness, and full of pain. Hers was full of pain too, but staunch with anger that he too carried, and he felt warranted. “Some are angry,” Zuko noted, “But, most respect you– they love you, and revere you– as they did your father. I _know_ they do, as do I,” Zuko assured her. “You’re doing what’s right, Katara. Hakoda would be so proud of you… as am I,” he whispered. “And, if you want me beside you, I will always be there.”

* * *

“I’d love to have you there…” Katara murmured. She captured his hand on her collar and lifted his palm to her cheek, nuzzling it affectionately. “But only if it’s something you want to do. Don’t feel any pressure,” she said, gazing up at him.

After a moment, Katara broke the embrace and returned to her wardrobe, searching the drawers. She only stopped when her hands closed around a small, wooden box. She’d had her heart set on wearing a traditional wolf headdress, as her father always did, but her husband’s willingness to stand beside her changed Katara’s mind.

She opened the box’s lid and retrieved the half-crescent crown. It still shimmered a bright gold, despite being locked away since Ember Island. Katara held it out to Zuko, watching his eyes widen at the sight of his mother’s hair piece.

“I’m going to wear it,” she said, gesturing for him to pin it in her hair, “and I want you to wear yours, too. Our nations aren’t separate anymore. You’re mine and I’m yours. My people will learn that.” 

* * *

“I know I want to be there _for you_ ,” Zuko assured her, stroking her cheek with his thumb as she leaned into him. He watched as she wandered off to her wardrobe and dug through her drawers and pulled out a box he recognized all too well. It was his mother’s crown. Zuko’s mouth fell slightly agape, and he then swallowed thickly, beyond moved at her gesture. 

His eyes watered, and he laughed, a warm smile falling on his face. “Katara… uttered Zuko. A part of him was afraid– they hated him for his legacy, where he was– what he was, instead of who. This crown– these crowns screamed defiance, that he wasn’t submitting, it showed Katara’s strength and commitment to the cause, to the treaty, to her marriage– to him. He was scared it could backfire on him, but he had faith in Katara’s backing and strength. She was being brave, as she always was– this time for him. 

He smiled at her warmly, and took a red ribbon and tied her hair into a traditional topknot of his regal people. She looked beautiful, and he told her just so, and he couldn’t help but soak in a moment all of her as he fastened in his mother’s crownpiece. “I’m a very lucky man,” Zuko muttered, running his hand down her cheek as he recomposed himself. 

He then tied his own topknot, then fastened his old prince crown of his nation. He was proud, but intimidated, to wear it. When Katara smiled proudly, he mirrored her. “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”


	27. Chapter 27

The pair made their way from the palace to the courtyard. Katara’s steps felt heavier, and the weight only bore down on her more as she approached the constructed gallows. She could feel the eyes of her people on her, watching her with a sense of reverent fear. 

That wasn’t what she wanted. She never wanted them to fear her. 

Katara assessed the two men, Nanuq and Kato, held in the grasp of guards, and decided she couldn’t blame her people. Here she was, a month into her reign, and hanging her own men with little to no warning. Her stomach twisted in her gut as Katara wondered what they must think of her, and she licked her lips, stalling for words when she faced the gathered crowd. 

“I am here with a heavy heart,” Katara started with honesty, knowing her people— and gods be damned if she _didn’t_ know them— would prefer the truth over a fancily spun web. “I thought my father’s death would be the lowest of lows for us, but the betrayal I felt yesterday was like nothing else.” 

“Do you have so little respect for my father? For his memory?” She asked, anger leaking in to her voice. "Do you have so little forgiveness, so little understanding, so little love in your hearts?“

Katara glared out over the crowd, then looked to her right. Zuko stood beside her, somber, but proud, whether of her or the crown on his head, she couldn’t decipher. Even still, the feelings she’d expressed to him just moments earlier flared up. 

She returned her attention to the audience. “What Azula did was cruel and vicious, but she did it _alone._ She murdered my father as a lone wolf and then she tried to kill me,“ Katara explained, her tone cold.

“My husband saved my life, yet you treat him as though he held a knife to my throat. You attack him as though he deserves to die for his sister’s actions. You behave so pompously, like you’re the jury, judge, and executioner, but I do not remember relinquishing those powers. I do not remember being a part of a people that is so self-righteous and hypocritical.“ 

She met blue gazes as they stared back at her, and watched as shame flashed in them. 

“I made a promise when I married Prince Zuko, a promise to uphold a treaty, so long as no nation breaks the terms. Has the Fire Nation broken them? Has the North?  The only nation refusing to act rashly is the Earth Kingdom, and yet, you see it as a just decision, as if trading blood for blood will lead to prosperity.” 

She turned to face the guards holding Nanuq and Kato. With a jab of her chin, the men were fitted in the waiting nooses with hoods thrown over their heads, and the guards stepped aside, awaiting her command to pull the trap doors. Katara held up a hand.

“I’d rather this tribe hold together with love and respect for one another, for the world, but I do no care if, for the time being, I have to hold this tribe together on the side of the right by threatening you with death!” Katara snarled, and her hand dropped. “I will do it.” 

The trapdoors fell open. The sound of robe snapping taut echoed off buildings, and a number of the crowd looked away, unable to face the dying men.

“I have never been more disappointed, **_more ashamed,_** to be Southern Water Tribe.” She gave them one last disdainful look, then Zuko’s hand. “Prove me wrong. Prove to me that you are honorable.”   


* * *

There was nothing satisfying in it. Despite that those men had wanted to, tried to, almost did, rape him, Zuko found now gloat in their brutal demise. Though, it was just, and as Katara said, painfully necessary. Not only had they attempted to harm him, they betrayed her, and betrayed the honorable memory of Hakoda.

 

That was what had Katara shaken at her core. Zuko was proud of her, even as he caught her hands tremble. She spoke nobly, but succinctly to her people. She let them know that she was in charge and intolerant of this treason that would lead to more bloodshed that no one at all wanted.

 

Zuko flinched, and looked away when the men died. The snaps of their necks brought chills down his spine, and brought him back to war. He couldn’t look, either. He glanced away like a coward, but soon as it ended, Katara took his hand, and that told him she wanted him, and that it was all worth it that he was here, and that he stood beside her, even when it was hard.

 

Zuko gave her hand a squeeze, and lead her from the gallows, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and taking her hand in his with the other. They stepped inside, and it was still so early. Zuko rubbed her back and lead her to the sofa to sit. “You did great, Kat… I know that was hard,” he assured her, squeezing her shoulder as he walked over to make some tea, and asked a chef to prepare them a breakfast.

 

“I know you’re… worried, but… I mean it when I say you’ve been a great chief. Not many have had to begin their rule with such a tragedy, and then a war. Despite all the hardships, here you are, leading your people to still do the moral thing, despite how unpopular it is. I can’t think of anything Hakoda would be prouder of,” Zuko said, his eyes glassing over. “I can’t think of one thing I am…” Zuko trailed off, shaking his head.

 

“I came here… and I was terrified. The past month, I was terrified. I felt alone. I felt lonely… I wasn’t sure if anyone cared… if anyone cared if I lived or died, even my uncle left while I was dying. He went home, leaving me here while my heart decayed from the inside out from Azula’s attack,” he whispered. “But, you were here. You always were, from the day I walked onto the snow, you were here for me. When no one else, not even my uncle was here, even when you were grieving, you were still here. I’ve never met anyone like that in my life. I’ve never had the honor of knowing someone so thoroughly wonderful and tenderhearted in my entire life.”

* * *

“You speak _too_ highly of me,” Katara protested, albeit unconvincingly. It warmed her sprits to know he believed her, even when it seemed her entire tribe was against her. Zuko’s affirmation was exactly what she needed.

And, a decent breakfast. Her eyes lit up and her stomach growled suddenly when the chef came in with Zuko’s order a short time later. He set down a tray of hotcakes and fresh pastries, alongside fruit and coffee. 

“Thank you,” she murmured to both Zuko and the chef. Katara leaned forward on the sofa to steal a pastry, then she settled under the crook of Zuko’s arm with a content hum.

“This is nice. The morning, not so much, but this.” Katara gestured at the two of them. “It’s calm and safe. I feel like I can breathe. I guess I didn’t realize that I _needed_ something peaceful like this.” 

* * *

Zuko nuzzled into her, kissing her cheek before taking a bite of his apple. He gave Katara’s shoulder a squeeze affectionately. “Good, you deserve it,” he praised her. “You should make sure you get a rest every day. I’ll make sure for you,” noted Zuko teasingly, leaning into her.

He was so relieved to see her relaxed for once. She seemed content and peaceful for the first time in ages as the sun shone in on them. Zuko still had his stomach in knots from yesterday, but in the moment, he could focus on their moment together. He could enjoy their breakfast in peace.

“I love you.”

* * *

“And I love you,” Katara answered, bumping Zuko’s ribs with her elbow. “You know, if I had to pick a favorite person, it’d be you.” She laughed softly, teasing Zuko a little more. “Fortunately, I don’t have to and I get to keep a few others on the list… Gran-Gran, Yue, Druk…”

Someone cleared his throat behind them, and Katara turned to see Pakku wearing a slightly shameful expression. “Any room for your grandfather and old master on that list?”

“You know I’ll always love you, Pakku,” Katara shifted on the sofa. Her gaze darted from the old man to Zuko and back. “But, I know what you said to my husband. You’ll have to forgive me for being a little irate.”

The waterbender nodded, “I understand.” He shuffled his feet as a beat of silence followed.

Katara could sense he was trying to work through something. Pakku was a proud man, and slow to admit his faults. It didn’t help the tension lingering in this confrontation that Katara had hardly spoken to him (aside from a harsh remark) since learning exactly how Zuko was treated.

She waited patiently, however, knowing Pakku wouldn’t have come to her quarters without good intentions.

Finally, he cleared his throat and met her gaze. “I was angry and hurting… I loved Hakoda as my own son, despite only having him in my life for ten years. I know that’s not an excuse for what I said…” Pakku’s eyes slid to Zuko.

“I pray you can forgive me, Prince Zuko, for both my words and my silence following. You are a good man. You’ve made my granddaughter happy and you’ve filled her life with love despite all of her losses. Please, I’m asking for your forgiveness.” 

* * *

Zuko laughed as he sat with Katara, his arm wrapped around her still, keeping her close as he reached at the tray for another chocolate croissant. He leaned his head atop hers, letting his eyes flutter shut in contentment, but it was disturbed when another set of footsteps pulled his head up, and he averted his gaze when he realized who it was. 

He quieted, knowing the man hadn’t favored him since the assassination, but his wife loved him. Though, there seemed to be something of shame in the old man’s eyes and when he apologized, Zuko instantly softened. A soft smile decorated Zuko’s face. He stood, taking Pakku’s hand and shaking it warmly, “Of course,” Zuko agreed. “Of course I forgive you, consider it water under the bridge,” he assured the elder with a nod. 

Pakku smiled brightly and then tugged Zuko into an embrace. Zuko, at first, stiffened in surprise, but his shoulders relaxed, and he returned the embrace slowly, letting out a deep breath of relief. He was seeing now that Katara was right– things would go back to normal. Her tribe would forgive him, though he’d committed no crimes. Zuko was sure he could forgive them too. He pulled back from Pakku with a smile, and felt more hopeful for the future they were bringing their child into.

* * *

Katara watched the interaction with a happy smile, then left the sofa to hug Pakku herself. She clutched the man’s forearms for a moment, opening herself up to Zuko and propositioning the both of them.

“I was thinking,” she started, “I’ll be sailing to the Fire Nation at the end of the week. Zuko, you’re still too weak to do any fighting… I was going to ask if you’d stay behind and help watch over the tribe.”

“Pakku, you’ll look after him won’t you?” Katara asked. “And, Gran-Gran will make sure he eats? I need people I can trust here, especially after everything that’s happened. I have to know the Tribe will be safe.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes widened at her suggestion, and he felt humbled, but intimidated. Who would listen to him? Would they take him seriously? Would he be safe? He walked warily down hallways– let alone him looking after the Tribe as some kind of authority, even a benevolent temporary one. Zuko was warmed that Katara even trusted him for such, and he didn’t want to let her down with something so important. 

“But, Katara,” began Zuko, shaking his head. “What about you? I– I… You’ll be all alone in the battlefront. You’re pregnant, love, I promised I’d go with you- be with you,” Zuko spoke, putting his hand on her forearm in concern. “Do you think you’d be okay on your own? You– You’ll be safe?” asked Zuko. 

He looked over at Pakku, worry in his gaze, but determination. “I’ll help you however you need, Kat. I just want this war to end, and you to come home safe. That’s all I think… anyone, except Kuei, wants.”

* * *

“Zuko, I’ll be fine,” Katara said, clasping her hands around his. “I’ve fought in wars before. I know what I’m doing, and I’ll have my men. They’d die for me if they had to.” 

“We do believe King Keui will surrender,” Pakku added, trying to reassure the young Prince. “His army is hardly equipped for the sea, or for fighting at sea. Katara’s navy will be intercepting him before Azulon’s gates. Keui won’t stand a chance.” 

Katara smiled in agreement. “I want as little bloodshed as possible. We all do. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll come home to you.” 

* * *

Zuko believed her, he really did, but he was scared. All he could think of was worst-case-scenarios. All he could think of was a box coming home instead of her. Zuko shook the morbid, distressing image from his head, and forced an encouraging smile from his frown. He pulled Katara into an embrace. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he promised, holding her tight and holding her close. 

“I’ll keep things in order. I promise. I– I don’t know how much– how willing everyone will be to take me seriously, but I pray they will for your sake. They respect you. They do,” Zuko assured her, holding her close, pinching his eyes shut. He held her in fear, and in preemptive longing for her. They hoped this would be quick, but she could be gone a year. He could miss his child’s birth. 

“Please, please be careful, and be safe… please take care of yourself. Please, don’t forget to write me,” Zuko whispered, “How soon do you leave?”

* * *

Katara relaxed in Zuko’s embrace, happy and content and safe while he held her. She wished she could stay there forever, unmoving and uncaring. The rest of the world could wait so long as she had him. 

But, Zuko couldn’t wait. She had to answer him, and by doing so, face her impending departure. Katara laid her cheek on Zuko’s chest and sighed. “I leave at the end of the week.” 

“But, you know I’ll write you,” she said, pulling back and smiling. “I’ll take an entire fleet of hawks and write to you every day I’m gone. I promise. You won’t even know I’m not with you.” 

* * *

The week flew by with a blink of an eye. Zuko was doing his best to prepare for his time ahead— he was scared and unsure. How could he lead these people who hated him? Would Katara’s speech be enough to have them at least trust her enough to trust him? Zuko could only pray.

More than that, he could only pray that Katara would be safe. He worried for her and the baby she carried. Zuko prayed this war would end as she said. He was scared for his family at home too.

Standing at the dock, he couldn’t believe he already had to bid her farewell. She looked tall and strong. Her armor made her look respectable and brave— all in which she was. Zuko’s eyes watered at the pier as he held her suitcase.

He didn’t want to say goodbye.

Zuko placed her luggage down, and cupped her cheeks. He leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Please be safe… come home soon… I’ll miss you so badly it’ll ache,” Zuko whispered, kissing her again as he squeezed her arms. “I love you— so, so much.”

“I know you can do this. Your father would be busting with pride.”

* * *

Katara melted against her husband. “And, I love you,” she whispered. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck; she buried her face in his chest so the waiting soldiers wouldn’t see the tears that wet her cheeks. “So much. Promise… promise me…”

She lifted her head and held Zuko’s face, chewing her bottom lip in a search for just the right words. Katara couldn’t find them. It’d come too quick, this departure. She had five days at the beginning, then she blinked, and found herself on a snow-laden dock, flanked by warships. 

“You know what… no,” Katara said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Don’t make me any promises. I’ll be back. I can ask it of you then.” She pressed a gentle, tender kiss to Zuko’s lips, then pulled away, letting go of his hands reluctantly. 

With a final glance, Katara took her bag and joined her crew on the deck of the lead ship. The gangway was drawn in. A horn blasted, echoing off the icy landscape. The ship stirred beneath her, and slowly, Zuko and her land became nothing more than a mix of dots, slipping further and further away. 

* * *

After the way he’d been treated, the events he was hit with in the past days, the fear in people’s eyes at the hanging— Zuko expected nothing but scoffs and defiance at his leadership in Katara’s absence. But, with Pakku’s help, the people of the South did band together. Not only that, but they supported him.

People cooked him food, brought it to him, and thanked him for stepping up in tough times. Some apologized for the actions of their kinsman, and some thanked him for saving Katara. A few, some who had been particularly harsh, even apologized. Some still were stubborn and bigoted.

But overall, things went smoothly. Zuko wrote his wife, and breathed a sigh of relief every time his letters were returned. Weeks passed, and Zuko couldn’t wait for his wife’s return. He was growing more anxious every day, and worried the war wouldn’t end as they hoped. Eventually, her letters gradually faded, and then ceased all together. Zuko tried to keep it together then, but it made him a frazzled mess.

He prayed for his uncle, cousin, his wife, their child, and his own wife and growing child. Zuko was up to his eyes in paperwork about the war, and keeping the nation in check. He hardly slept between that and his nerves, and he went through more cups of tea a day than he could count.

He watched the line where the sky met the sea and the sun rising on it every morning through the window, coated in snow, as he sipped tea. He daydreamed about Katara sailing up on the coast. But, one brisk, snowy morning, Zuko had to rub his eyes.

When he blinked, and the fleet was still there, Zuko dropped his cup, didn’t even bother with his winter gear, and bolted for the pier.


	28. Chapter 28

Five months she’d been gone, five, harrowing, lonely months. 

The hope that the Earth King would surrender upon her fleet’s arrival proved folly, and Katara’s defenses, at the battle’s beginning, had suffered greatly. She counted on his stubbornness, perhaps. She’d guessed that Keui had assembled an air fleet, too. 

What she hadn’t wagered on, was a legion of metalbenders. Someone had trained the Dai Li in the art, and the cunning snakes wreaked havoc on her ships.  

By the grace of the gods, and aid from Fire Lord Iroh, Katara and her men weathered the onslaught. When the full moon came, her waterbenders had their revenge. But, the majority of the Earth King’s troops had reached landfall; the war wasn’t won. 

Her army joined Iroh’s, and they fought side by side until King Keui had to admit defeat. After the fighting’s conclusion and several weeks of debating renewed treaties, the Earth Kingdom’s monarchy was dismantled, and the international council was called to Ba Sing Se to establish an electoral democracy. 

All of the international council, except Katara. 

She’d been gone too long. Her pregnancy was in its seventh month. And, she’d spent the last two months of battle without the ability to write her husband (the Earth King had been intercepting every hawk). Katara wanted to go home. 

So, she sent her most trusted to warriors to Ba Sing Se, while the rest of her fleet trained their sails towards the South. The wind offered them a quick voyage and the tides were calm. 

For that, Katara was grateful, happy, even. But, the shores of her home grew steadily closer, and her fears grew with them. She’d been away so long. Her body had changed. Her marriage had been tested by the distance, not to mention the many trials before she left. What if Zuko was dreading this reunion? What if he was happier with her away? 

  


* * *

Five months. Five, long, painstaking, harsh months. Seasons changed, and he held the reins. He’d somehow, by the grace of God, held the Water Tribe together. Zuko didn’t know how, but he thanked the community. The people— and their hearts.

In the five months, all Zuko could think of was Katara. He missed at her night, and in the morning the most. He worried about her when he filled out paperwork, and he was so fatigued. He knew that she would never abandon the tribe, or him. The council began to say she’d gone rogue, but Zuko knew she’d sooner die than betray her people.

Zuko prayed their unborn child was all right too. He prayed the war wasn’t too harsh, and he prayed not too many were lost. Zuko wanted nothing more than to scoop Katara up and never, ever let her go. It didn’t feel real. He looked out to the window every day, and he’d space out, imagining what it’d be like if his wife were to come ashore.

Zuko alerted everyone as he dashed through the palace, leaving the shattered teacup and splattered tea on the floor. Zuko shoved on his boots without lacing them up, and shouted down the hall with a smile so wide, he thought it’d crack off his face.

“She’s home! She’s home! Chief Katara is home! She’s back! The fleet is back!” Zuko cried, laughing in sheer, unprecedented joy. He hugged a guard as he stumbled out the door, and told the tower keeper to sound the bell.  

His wife was home.

Zuko ran through the snow, freezing as the winds kicked in his face, and snow blew forward. He hardly felt, and didn’t care a bit. He had a one-track mind in the moment, and all it screamed was that Katara was home.

Zuko shivered on the dock, his arms folded over his chest, and tears streaked down his cheeks, from whiplash or tears of overjoy, he could not tell. The ships couldn’t park and unload soon enough. Every second now felt like an eternity as he waited to see his very-pregnant wife come from the barracks.

Guards surrounded him all over, the whole town had come, waiting for their own husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, and uncles. Zuko smiled from ear-to-ear, and finally, he saw her.

Katara stood up on the ship, being helped in her step by a soldier because she was blown up like a balloon from how far along she was. Zuko choked on his breath, heaving an ugly sob.

“Katara,” Zuko choked out, stumbling in desperation to the boat, overjoyed and unable to contain his excitement.

She was alive. She was safe. She was here. Agni, she was home.

Zuko leapt onto the ship before she could even deboard, and he pulled Katara into his arms, and held her close, clutching to her, holding her, unsure to believe if she was really here, and he just _**cried**_.  

* * *

She’d been trembling uncontrollably since her ship moved into the harbor. It seemed to take hours, but all at once, the ship docked and Katara could see her husband on the docks below. She made fists to hide the tremor in her hands, only unclenching them when a soldier came to escort her from the ship. 

They didn’t make it. They didn’t even make it to the gangway. 

Zuko rushed up onto the deck and just like that, all of her insecurities, all of her worries, fell away. She melted against him, buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist. Then, the tears came, and despite how weak she had to appear in front of her crew, Katara let herself cry. 

“I missed you,” she whispered, lifting her head. Katara held Zuko’s face and ran her fingers through his hair, reassuring herself that he wasn’t a dream. It was a dream she’d had a thousand times. 

But, he was real. He was there. His tears matched hers and his eyes danced with happiness. Katara pulled him close again. _“God,_ I missed you so much.”

* * *

Zuko wasn’t sure if he would ever see his wife again. He held her just like it too. He felt her tears soak his shirt as he stood there, not giving a damn, underdressed in the freezing, polar cold. Zuko pulled back, and laughed joyfully as bells tolled in the background. Zuko cupped her face, and simply took her in. She was here, beautiful and alive and safe— in his arms.

He laughed again in disbelief, shaking his head. Zuko held her head and pulled her over, peppering her face in loving kisses before pulling her in again. He was a disheveled mess coated in tears. “God, I- I can’t believe you’re here!” Exclaimed Zuko.

“I was so worried. I never stopped writing- just in case. Agni, I thought you might’ve been ambushed or captured. I was terrified,” Zuko admitted.

“I missed you. I missed you more like hell,” Zuko choked out, hugging her again. “I love you. I love you so, so, so much. I’m so relieved, I almost collapsed when I saw you,” Zuko told her with a laugh as he pulled back again. “Look at me!” Zuko said playfully, pointing to his humiliating appearance.

“Never mind me, look at you!” He spoke proudly. He put his hands on her belly. “Agni, you must be almost due- our baby wants to meet us,” Zuko said tenderly, kissing her stomach dotingly, letting out a shaky sigh as he leaned his head on her belly, listening for the baby with a smile while peaced tears fell unabashedly.

He pulled back in fear then at the realization he should’ve made sooner. Zuko blanched, standing, and took her forearms, “my love— what happened with the war? How… how many? I’m so sorry, my love— come in, talk to me, the war was so long. We didn’t want any tracing so we couldn’t seek out info and we lost communication with you and your fleets. Love, what happened? Are— my uncle? Lu? The baby…? Agni— how many dead? Did we win?”

* * *

“Everyone is alright, Zuko. We lost some men… but that’s expected in a war. The goal was to protect your family and the world’s peace," Katara assured him, though her gaze drifted out into the harbor. The ship carrying the bodies of the lost soldiers was pulling up beside the dock, and families who had yet to see their loved ones deboard the other ships were hovering close by.

Sadness settled in Katara’s eyes, but she gave Zuko with a tender smile. "None of them went in thinking they wouldn’t lay down their lives for that. Those who did will be honored. It’s a noble cause.”

“Don’t worry, okay? And don’t wish for things to be different." She reached up to hold Zuko’s face, still in disbelief that she was back and he was real. "We won… in the sense that the Fire Nation is safe and the Earth King will no longer be a threat. Avatar Aang and the rest of the council are there now, making sure of that.”

Katara dropped her hands, allowing Zuko to take one and a soldier, the other. They helped her from the ship to the docks, where her people made a path to a waiting sled. Zuko helped her into the seat, then joined her, and covered them both with a blanket.

While he was occupied, Katara fished around in the small bag she had slung on her back. After a minute, she produced a stack of carefully folded letters.

“These are for you,” she said. “I didn’t stop writing… I just had no way to send them. Keui was intercepting any and all communication. We didn’t want to risk anything falling into the wrong hands. But, here…”

Katara pushed the stack into Zuko’s lap. “Read them. I want you to have them.”

* * *

Zuko sat beside her in the sled, his eyes pooling with tears once more. “You wrote all these… for me?” Zuko said with a laugh, shaking his head as he tugged her into his arms. He couldn’t get over his joy at her safety and good health, and how the baby seemed to be developing just fine- more than fine- by the balloon look his wife held. He was sure she was eager. 

“ _I love you more than anything_ ,” Zuko whispered in her ear firmly, squeezing her tightly before pulling back. He kissed her forehead gently, and then put one arm around her shoulders and the other on her belly, rubbing her there. 

He looked back at the people. They looked anxious and shaken– some looked heartbroken. He hurt to celebrate when they were all so broken. They lost who they were waiting for- who they lost contact with. He was holding his world. Theirs was gone. Zuko turned with a sigh. 

“We need that international council now more than ever… there is far, far too many deaths on frivolity,” Zuko spoke. 

Zuko’s hands ran over the letters, and he smiled then, somberly. “I’ll read every single one.”


	29. Chapter 29

Over the next few weeks, Katara settled back into her palace routine easily. She held meetings with her council, worked through the stack of papers Zuko had left her, and spent the evenings visiting the families who’d lost someone to the war.

The South found contentment again, harkening back to the happy, peaceful state that existed before her father’s death. Trade with the Fire Nation resumed. When the international council had finished their work in Ba Sing Se, Katara began to trade with the Earth Kingdom, too.

Within her private life, Katara found herself rushing about to prepare for a baby. She had the final touches put on the nursery, went out with her grandmother to purchase _another_ blue quilt she’d probably never need, and let Pakku and Zuko surprise her with a baby shower.

That’d only resulted in more gifts than she knew what to do with, but Katara figured there wasn’t any harm in being over-prepared for their first baby. She was helping Zuko put the items away in the nursey when she paused and put a hand on her belly.

“He’s kicking,” Katara muttered. “He keeps kicking… Tell him to stop, will you?” she laughed, making Zuko stop what he was doing and put his hands on her belly, too. “Do you feel that? Somebody wants to meet you.”

* * *

Zuko was excited for the baby’s arrival. With Katara home, things fell back into place easily. He was relieved to be relieved of his duties, but found himself more helpful than before. He was glad to be able to contribute more and fill in when she needed the extra hand, especially when Katara was about to have their baby any moment.

That was what preoccupied almost every minute of his time now. He was painting things, assembling cribs, reading parenting books, worrying over the birth and the health of his wife and baby, worrying over being a good father, but also being excited for their family to finally begin.

Even after five months, things slipped back to normal like Katara never left. Zuko was putting gifts away happily as Katara called him over and his hand rested on her belly. Zuko laughed with wonder as he felt the baby kick.

His eyes met Katara’s and all the light in the world must’ve shone in them. “I’m so glad,” Zuko stated. “It’s almost time… our baby is almost here. I can’t believe it… after all we’ve been through… it seems like years, but also the blink of an eye. I can’t wait…” Zuko whispered.

He stood up and embraced her, cupping the back of Katara’s head with affection. “I’ll be here The whole time. I won’t leave your side through a minute of it— it’s our family. I’ll be here. Every step.”

* * *

“Well, of course you won’t leave,” Katara laughed, “not yet, anyway, and not after.” She ran her hands from Zuko’s shoulders down to his forearms, pulling back and looking up. Confusion was written across his face. 

Katara pursed her lips apprehensively, “You know how it works, right?” 

“There are, _um…_ well, there’re some rules…” she said, trying to sound casual and nonchalant. Katara had a gut feeling that he’d be upset and she mentally chastised herself for not having this fight sooner. 

“Men aren’t allowed in the birthing suite. It’s a private space, for the mother and her attendants. Men don’t— I- I’m surprised you don’t know this.” Katara sighed audibly. “When it’s time, you’ll be asked to wait outside. What happens is an intimate experience; it’s personal, and here, it’s shared only with the few women the pregnant mother invites into her space.” 

She gave his arms a squeeze and looked up apologetically. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you expected or what you’re used to, but that’s how it is in the Tribes. Childbirth isn’t a space where men are welcomed.” 

* * *

“Well, I’m sorry I’m just so _stupid_ and _ignorant_ ,” Zuko growled back. “Please pardon my sheer idiocy, Chief Katara,” Zuko mocked, but he was really hurt. What did she mean he wouldn’t get to be there when his own child was born? She wanted strangers with her for something so important to both of them– but not him? He could understand if he was a man from an arranged marriage who’d done nothing but give the sperm, but Katara loved him. How could she not want the man she loved to be there to help deliver the child they’d brought into the world together? Zuko was hurt. 

He shook his head, “Is this some dumb royal thing? How could you not want me, Katara?” Zuko asked. “I’m not just some man off the streets. I’m your husband. This is my baby, too. This is our baby. I want to be there for you,” Zuko stated, shaking his head. “I want to be there for our baby,” he affirmed. “I don’t want to be some… passive participant in our child’s birth, where strangers helped more than I did,” Zuko emphasized. 

He would go mad, too, waiting outside that room. What if something went wrong? And, they forbid him from going in to see his wife and child? In the Fire Nation, men had a choice. Most royal men stayed out, but the commonfolk went in. They were there with their wives while they gave birth to their sons and daughters. It seemed so cruel and uncaring not to be. 

Zuko pulled back from Katara’s squeeze, hurt. “It’s an intimate, personal experience that you want me, your husband– the man who gave you this child, our child, who loves you, who you love, who loves our baby– out of that? But… you want strangers there?” Zuko said, pain on his face. “I don’t understand.”

* * *

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Zuko, but your assumptions are pretty naïve,” she snapped. “Not only are you insulting my tribe, you’re insulting me by implying that my country’s traditions are a personal slight against you. Listen to yourself!”

Katara waved at him flippantly, then set her hands on her hips and met his gaze with a glare. “I don’t go into that room with strangers. It’s an experience I share with women I love; my grandmother will be there, my mother’s friends, my peers that have given birth…”

“I’ll be surrounded by people who know what it is to bring a child into this world, who can help.” Katara felt herself growing angry. "I mean, what would you do? Tell me. Will you be able to empathize with me? Will you be able to offer me advice? Or encouragement? Will you even know the changes that I’ll be undergoing?“

“Men aren’t welcome because they aren’t necessary _, Prince Zuko_.” Katara used his title to mock him right back. She was seething under the surface, infuriated that her husband of almost a year would still believe her Tribe’s traditions to be against him. “Childbirth is about the mother, about the strength and beauty of women; it’s not about the father.”

* * *

“I’m insulting you?” Zuko retorted, shaking his head, “You’re insulting me! I’m your husband!” cried Zuko. “Your friends didn’t make that baby with you! I did!” Zuko shouted. “How can you just shut me out? How can you lock me out of this? It’s my baby, too!” he persisted. “Why does this have to continue? You let me have a voice at the Summit. Why do hurtful traditions have to go on?” Zuko stated. “Just because it’s tradition, doesn’t mean it’s right!”

Zuko pressed his fingers to his nose in frustration. “The Fire Nation has hundreds of traditions that hurt people, and my cousin, uncle, and I sat down and looked at things. Lu Ten writes me on things he accommodates for for Yue! Why does it have to be set in stone? Why do you want me out of this so badly? Why don’t you want me there so much?” Zuko asked, hurt that she was so deadset on shutting him out.

“This is important to me, Katara. Being there for my own child’s birth at my wife’s side is very important to me,” he emphasized. He shook his head then, still hurt that she wanted it that way, but he didn’t want to be too selfish. “The fact you don’t want me there hurts me, but if it does make you uncomfortable, I suppose I will leave,” Zuko said. “You being comfortable is the most important thing,” he decided, still sighing. “You’re the one giving birth… I want you to be comfortable… healthy, safe,” he spoke. “I’ll do whatever you want, but I don’t understand this.”

“The only necessary one is a midwife healer. How are your friends any more useful than me?” Zuko stated. “You heal wounds you’ve never endured, don’t you? Just because I won’t know the strife myself, doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you through it. It’s my child,” Zuko spoke.

“I want to be there for you, and for my son or daughter.”

* * *

“And what about what I want?” Katara asked, exasperated. “You’re acting like having sex with me has given you ownership! Just because _you_ think a tradition is wrong, doesn’t mean it _is_ wrong. Your nation isn't so advanced that it gets to dictate the world’s behavior, Zuko.”

“This tradition holds value to me,“ she explained. "It’s important because it allows me to be comfortable through the birth. It gives me a chance to be still afterwards and bond with my child. I won’t have to worry over my spouse or fret about his feelings and desires. It makes this about me. It lets me… _cherish_ what my body has done in the last nine months.“ 

“And for fuck’s sake,” Katara huffed, crossing her arms. She was irritated beyond belief now, and some of it had to be the hormones and the level of fatigue she operated under, but she couldn’t keep her temper under control. “It keeps some fucking mystery and attraction alive in the bedroom!”

She rolled her eyes with a growl. “But if you’re so torn up about it, _fine._ I'll only have the necessary help: a single healer,” she snapped, then brushed around Zuko to leave the nursery. "The rest of you can wait outside.“   

* * *

Katara spoke like she believed in his original, greatest fear, at least in this role. He was nothing more than a glorified sperm donor. He went from angry to hurt in a matter of a minute. Zuko softened, but not in understanding, but because he was hurt. “I’m trying to be a _dad_ , Katara… any piece of shit can have sex and be a father,” he whispered harshly, trying to make her understand. But, by the look in her eyes, it didn’t seem she wanted to.

Zuko’s father wasn’t there when he was born, and he was never there after. Ozai refused to hold Zuko because he didn’t have the spark of a firebender in his eyes. Ozai didn’t even leave the restaurant he was dining at with a group of concubines while his mother gave birth. Zuko had to be there. He was supposed to be there when his own child was born. It was incredibly paramount to him that he set the tone for the rest of his child’s life by being there now, and for the rest of his life. 

Zuko watched as she brushed by him, and he was left feeling empty. That never happened, usually, after they argued, but this hurt. Something about it cut him deeply. 

Zuko walked through the nursery, running his hand over the crib he’d carpentered alongside Pakku. There was a dresser, with a spot to change the baby, and a bin full of cloths, and little woolen clothes that were once Katara’s or Sokka’s. Pakku told him how Kya, Katara’s mother, handmade them. There was a crib, too, in Zuko and Katara’s bedroom to keep a closer eye, that Pakku said Hakoda made from scratch, sawing down the evergreen himself for the material, and using a sawmill to get it down to size. 

He wanted to be like Hakoda– a good father, a good husband, a good leader, a good example. That was what frightened him. Ozai was his father, not Hakoda, and not Iroh. Iroh and Lu Ten, had all been there for their children’s births. What kind of man would he be if he skipped out on something so precious? What kind of dad? Zuko realized that was what frightened him. But, if Katara was right about the tradition– Hakoda wouldn’t have been there, either. He was still a wonderful father. 

But, he was absent too. For most their lives, Hakoda was at war, leaving his children, though reluctantly, behind. 

Zuko was terrified of being an absentee father. He felt as though being absent for their birth set the stage for that. But, more than anything, it was important Katara be comfortable. She was right– she was the one who carried the baby for nine months. She was the one who’d endure pain to bring the baby to the world. He wouldn’t understand, _couldn’t_ , and never would. If him, even if it hurt him, being there upset her or put her at unease, he shouldn’t be there. 

Zuko finally got up, and went to the kitchen to set on some tea. That was the best way to seek forgiveness, with a cup of warmth in your hands. Zuko walked to Katara’s office, and knocked before pushing open the door with his back, holding the tray. He gave her a small, apologetic, tender smile. 

“I’m here to apologize. You’re right. I’m being irrational… It just– I expected to be there, so I was upset when I found out I wasn’t going to be, and I… I overreacted. I’m sorry, Katara. You’re right, you’re the one giving birth. I’ll wait outside if that’s what makes you comfortable, and you should have as many or as little other people important to you around as you want and makes you comfortable and happy. All I want is for you to be healthy, comfortable, safe, and content… and I want the same for our baby. If this is what that means, then I’m fine with it… and… I’m _sorry_ I acted otherwise.”

* * *

"That’s good,” Katara bit. She didn’t look up; her gaze remained on her paperwork, though it wasn’t out of lingering anger as Zuko likely thought. She hardly cared about the spat. The hour she’d had alone was enough to cool down.

Behind her desk, her hands had settled on her belly. A cramp washed over her, making her abdomen tight and her breath tighter. She forced air through grit teeth, her eyelids fluttering in pain, then tilted her head up as it passed, finally.

Katara licked sweat off her top lip. “Yeah, that’s great,” she repeated, eyeing the tray of tea and Zuko’s apprehensive stare, “because I’ve started having contractions.”

“If you could, _um…”_ Another breath and she focused on keeping herself upright and poised. The last outcome she wanted was her husband panicking, which was another reason, if they were still arguing, he wasn’t allowed in the room for the birth. Men saw blood and pain and immediately tried to fix everything before it crumbled around them.

The cramp subsided slowly. Katara found her voice, again. “If you could please tell my grandmother. She’ll— she’ll know what to do.” 

* * *

Zuko watched as his wife faltered, concerned. “Kat…? Love?” Zuko asked in worry, turning his head to try to meet her gaze. She looked out of breath and in pain. Zuko encroached on her as she stumbled once more, his eyes wide with concern as he put a hand on her back– until she told him what was happening. 

Zuko instantly jumped into action, throwing everything else behind him. “Oh! Oh– Oh shit,” Zuko cursed, “Okay, okay… I– I’ll get Gran-Gran,” Zuko said, trying to sound soothing, but he was panicked. He was scared, but he couldn’t let her know that. She’d need his strength. 

“Okay, okay… I- I’ll be right back, love,” Zuko assured her, kissing her temple. “I love you. I– I’ll get Gran-Gran… okay– okay,” Zuko spoke, then rushed off in a frenzy to fetch the old woman. 

Finally, Zuko got ahold of her, and the woman called on other midwives and healer women to help Katara get to the birthing room– the same room her mother had brought Katara into the world from. Zuko carried Katara there, and placed her on the bed– worry in his eyes. He wanted to stay. He wanted to make sure everything was okay. He wanted to be there. But, Katara wanted him out, and the last thing he wanted was to upset her. 

So, he kissed her temple, which was covered in sweat, then her forehead, lingering there while he squeezed her hands. “I love you so, so, so much,” Zuko whispered, then his hand fell over her belly, and he rubbed there affectionately. “You’ll be great,” he assured her. “If you need me, I’m going to be outside the doors the whole time,” promised Zuko, kissing her cheek then one last time before pulling away. 

He glanced at each woman, meeting their eyes as if to beg them to take good care of her, but if Katara trusted them, he knew they already would. So, he left, closing the door behind him, and his stomach was already in knots. All he wanted was to be in there, and it made him even more anxious to have no clue what was going on. He didn’t know if she was okay, or if something went wrong, whether with Katara or the baby, and within minutes he was driven mad. He couldn’t sit down, all he could do was bite his nails and pace back and forth– and pray.


	30. Chapter 30

A year passed, a quick, peaceful, prosperous year.

Hakoda grew like a weed, turning into a little chunk of rolls and pudgy cheeks. He was crawling everywhere, and walking _(haphazardly)_ too, exploring the palace while his parents watched, sticking his hands in whatever he could. When he wasn’t running amok, he was in a sling across Katara’s back, babbling through meetings and building himself a harem of admirers. He never went without attention or affection from guards, servants, and his parents, alike.

As for his parents: they were happy. Katara often said she was happier than she’d ever been. Her life was full of joy and she was so in love, with both her son and her husband.

She’d taken the day off from her duties to wriggle Hakoda into a snow suit and surprise Zuko. Their wedding anniversary had snuck up on them, plus Hakoda’s birthday was in a few days. Zuko didn’t know it yet, but Katara had every intention of dragging him out into the snow to celebrate both.

With Hakoda squirming in her arms, Katara wondered through the palace to the green house, where Zuko so often found an hour or two of solitude and solace. He was engrossed in a painting when she snuck. Katara quietly set Hakoda down, letting the baby boy waddle through the dozens of flowers to surprise his father.

He bumped into Zuko’s legs with a little _‘oof.’_ Katara laughed, emerging from her hiding place behind a flowering vine.

“Hakoda wants you to come with us to celebrate his birthday,” she explained, approaching her husband and giving him a kiss, “and our anniversary. You didn’t forget, did you, my love?” 

* * *

The year had been an abundance of blessings. Zuko was elated with his life. Every turn was tiring with their baby, but full of love and laughter. He wouldn’t trade it for anything, and never could have imagined his life any differently now. Zuko never forgot to count his blessings. 

It was hard to believe two years of marriage had already gone by. Sometimes, Zuko felt like he’d just stepped off the ship. He’d wondered if Katara had forgotten, with how busy she was as chief, but he’d been working on a painting of her and baby Hakoda playing in the flower fields. He was almost done except for the background, which was why he was in the greenhouse, looking at the flowers for reference. He was sitting on a stool with his easel in tow, almost ready to present Katara with the anniversary gift. 

He was startled when he heard Hakoda creep over, and quickly shifted to stand in front of the painting, which was supposed to be a surprise. Zuko laughed and scooped up his baby boy, peppering his little face with kisses before leaning into his wife’s kiss. 

Zuko put a hand on Katara’s back, pulling her close. “I could never forget,” he replied quietly, rubbing his nose against hers and pecking her lips again. Hakoda grabbed a fistful of his father’s hair, his other hand preoccupied as he sucked on his chubby thumb. Zuko smiled, and pulled the boy’s hand from his mouth, accidentally moving to expose the picture without realizing. 

“No, no, Hakoda,” Zuko gently told him before kissing his nose. “You’re a big boy, almost one!” exclaimed Zuko, then turning to notice Katara looking at the painting. 

He quickly shimmied back over to cover it, “Hey! That– That is a _surprise_!”

* * *

“Alright, alright,” Katara feigned innocence, though her eyes twinkled with repressed laughter. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything. I promise,” she teased, throwing at arm around Zuko’s neck. “You’ll still surprise me.”

Katara bumped her nose against his, and closed her eyes as she reveled in having Zuko so close. Two years, yet she never tired of being held and being touched by him. When she pulled back, her smile had shifted to something demure and private.

“I have a surprise, too. I have a few, actually,” she murmured. “Two… you will get if you can put this aside and come with me and Hakoda. You’ll want to dress warmly.”

She winked, knowing he still hated being out in the snow. Fortunately, it was a sunny day. Katara couldn’t feel too guilty about dragging Zuko out to play in it, especially when it was for the enjoyment of their son.

Still, she buttered him up with another deep kiss, only pulled away from Hakoda began tugging at her hair. “I know, my little snowflake,” Katara tickled under Hakoda’s chin before disentangling his fingers from her curls. “You’ve been so patient; we’re going.”

“Come on,” she said, tugging on Zuko’s hand. “It’ll be worth it, and if it’s not, there’ll be more surprises tonight… after Hakoda’s gone to bed.”

* * *

Zuko was on cloud nine as his wife tugged him along with their baby. Her promises of a surprise had a stupid grin plastered on his face the whole time as she bundled him up, and then Zuko went to work bundling up little Hakoda. Zuko felt as though his life couldn’t be more perfect than it was in this moment. They had their struggles, for sure, but all-in-all, Zuko was more than content: he was actually happy. He had a very happy life.

It was a more mild day, and Zuko carried Hakoda up to the slope, which Katara insisted had the most penguins, and best spot for kids. For sure, at least, it had a great view. You cold see the palace, and the lights from the village surrounding. It was a beautiful sight, almost enough to let him forget how he was freezing his ass off— almost.

Zuko looked for the biggest penguin, and grabbed it by the hand, and the penguin chirped happily, lying down— ready for the slopes. Zuko smirked, patting its head before hopping aboard, and taking Hakoda back from his wife’s arms. Zuko gave the penguin the go-ahead, and they went racing down the bunny slope-sized hill. Hakoda was giggling, and clapping in his father’s arms, which made Zuko beam from ear-to-ear.

Zuko ruffled the penguin’s head, and kissed his son’s before trudging back up the little hill for Katara’s turn. This went on and on until they lost track of time, and the sun was fading, and Hakoda was drooling on Zuko’s shoulder.

Zuko walked over to Katara, rubbing his son’s back affectionately as the little boy sucked his thumb, and Zuko pretended not to notice. “I think our little penguin-sledder may be ready to retire for the day,” Zuko said with a warm laugh, his cheeks and nose tinged pink from the cold. Zuko closed his eyes and affectionately rested his head against Hakoda’s as he rocked him in his arms, patting his back.

But, as he did, Hakoda stirred, and his lip jutted out in a pout— Zuko recognized this as the sign of tears. Zuko winced preemptively for his loud cry, and quickly tried shifting him to Katara after sniffing his bottom.

“One more! One more, Papa!” cried the one-year-old, reaching back for his father. Zuko laughed, and took the little boy back into his arms. Zuko lifted him up, and spun him around before tickling his coat-clad belly.

“All right, one more! Just for you!” Zuko exclaimed, kissing his son’s pudgy cheek, throwing a lopsided smile back to his wife, and bugging a penguin one last time.

Zuko and Hakoda slid down the slopes, laughing as they did, but when they landed, they skidded over a bump, and Zuko and the baby fell from the penguin. Zuko shouted in worry for his son, and raced over immediately— panicked. He expected to hear a cry, and worried even more when he didn’t. “Hakoda!” shouted Zuko, flashing a worried stare up at Katara before running to him.

But, among the white snow, it was hard to miss a little boy sitting up, sprouting a flame— giggling. Zuko’s mouth fell agape, and soon shifted to a smile— his eyes widening. “Spirits, Hakoda!” Zuko said, laughing proudly. “Good job! You’re a fire bender, just like Papa!” Zuko stated, sprouting his own flame, and peppering his son with prideful kisses. “That’s great, turtle duck! Papa is so proud!” Zuko exclaimed, laughing again joyfully. “Let’s show Mama! She’ll be so happy!” Zuko said, then running up the hill.

“Kat! Kat! Look! Look what Hakoda can do!” Zuko boasted, then propping the boy on his shoulders. Hakoda clapped happily, and then demonstrated his skills to Katara as Zuko looked up at him, shifting his gaze back-and-forth from Katara and his son eagerly and proudly.

* * *

“Tui and La,” Katara exclaimed, watching her son hold a small flame over Zuko’s head. Pride swelled in her chest. She pressed on her toes and gave the little boy a congratulatory kiss, still smiling when she pulled away. “That’s amazing, my love.” 

She tweaked Hakoda’s cheek, winking, then met Zuko’s gaze with a playful smirk. “Looks like you’ll be busy making sure he doesn’t burn the palace down,” Katara teased. “I’ll add it to your list of duties.” 

Katara laughed to herself, playing with Hakoda’s foot and watching him firebend. As her laugh died, however, her smile fell away. Her stomach twisted with pent-up anxiety and she looked down, then across the ravine. 

* * *

Zuko pulled his son back into his arms from his shoulders, and Hakoda wrapped his arms around his neck, snuggling against his dad. Zuko kissed his head once more, and smiled at his wife. His smile faded, however, when Katara’s did. He caught her look off, and cupped her cheek with his free hand. 

“Kat,” whispered Zuko, his face turned in concern. “Love, are you okay?” whispered Zuko, his thumb caressing her skin as he worried. He gave her an encouraging smile before he realized what might be wrong, and his own stomach coiled in dread. 

He remembered what his father-in-law had said. If they couldn’t produce a firebending heir, Katara would need to get together with someone else– have a baby with a waterbending man. Zuko was too afraid to ask if that was it. He was too scared to have confirmation, or to know if she was worried because the council would give her a hard time, or because she would need to bed another if it came down to it– or something else entirely. Zuko felt guilty as he strayed from probing her. 

“Why don’t we go back home, and get some hot dinner and tea by the fire?” 

* * *

Katara caught herself and forced a smile to her lips. “Yeah… _okay.”_ She blinked a few times, rapidly, then tugged her chin from Zuko’s hand and turned back towards the palace. She shook her shoulders out as she walked, trying to dispell her worries. 

Inside, she was reeling. It’d be a matter of days, maybe hours, before Hakoda’s newfound ability spread through the palace. The council would hear first, then her people. Quickly enough, there’d be… concern. 

Her firstborn, _a firebender._

Katara sighed, a growl on her breath. She could talk around the council… for a while. She could promise more children soon, hold out hope that she’d have a waterbender. But, dread had settled in her belly and her hands shook. If she didn’t… 

As they came upon the palace, Katara looked back, watching as her husband cheered on Hakoda. She tried to smile, but it fell away. She was frowning by the time Zuko caught her. 

They undressed in the foyer. A servant took their coats and boots, and Katara situated Hakoda beneath her cloak to nurse before following Zuko into their private dining room. He pulled out a seat for her, bowls of soup were brought in, and the couple sat down in relative silence, exchanging glances over their meal. 

“I, uh… I was going to tell you,” Katara started, breaking the delicate quiet. “I-I promised you two surprises… if you came out into the snow and, well… the healers think I’m having twins. I’m about two months along.” 

* * *

Zuko noticed Katara seemed off the rest of the night. He tried to uplift the mood after Hakoda was put to bed, but it seemed to no avail. It was their anniversary, and Zuko wanted his wife to be happy, but she seemed anything but since Hakoda began firebending. Zuko wanted to tell her that they shouldn’t worry over it, and that he was healthy, safe, and happy. That was what mattered. Their little boy was a picture of health. He was smart, kind, and the light of their lives. That was more than enough. He knew it was for Katara too, but if her head was headed down the same path as his, he couldn’t fault her for fretting. 

Zuko pulled his head from his bowl when he heard Katara begin to speak. He gave her a small, but warm, reassuring smile, nodding for her to continue while she stammered. When she finally came out with it, Zuko’s jaw nearly hit the table. “Twins…?” Zuko spoke in disbelief, and his face gradually grew a smile, wide and joyful, reaching from ear-to-ear. His eyes glistened like Christmas trees, and he laughed happily. “Twins! You– You’re kidding?” laughed Zuko, unable to erase his genuine smile. 

He set down his spoon giddily, and went to her, embracing Katara tightly, “Twins,” he repeated in shock through another laugh. He pressed his head to hers affectionately, then pulled over to kiss her cheek, then her lips happily. “I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, meeting her gaze, and she still seemed somber. 

“Are… are you not happy?” Zuko asked quietly. Did she worry he’d be upset? Was she scared to have so many young children at once? Was she frightened to give birth to twins? “Love, it’ll be all right. I- I can hold off on my ambassador position… it’ll be good– we’ll be happy. Don’t worry.”

Zuko pulled her into his arms again, holding her close. “I love you so much. I’m so happy… _twins_.”

* * *

“No, no, _I am,_ ” Katara said. “I’m happy.” She shifted in his arms, uncomfortable and unsettled. “I was, at least. I was ecstatic when the healer told me, and I was excited to you, but…” 

She trailed off. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, not on their wedding anniversary. The day Katara had imagined was happy and light. They’d wear Hakoda out in the snow, then wear each other out in bed, but now her thoughts were plagued by the council. 

And Hakoda. And firebending. And the babies she was having soon. 

Katara leaned forward, her face in her hands. “I just wish there was a way to know. I wish I could promise one of the babies due is a waterbender, but I can’t.” 

“The council will… well,” Katara lifted her head and looked at Zuko. “They can’t see it outright, but they won’t be happy. They’ll be breathing down my neck because, at this point, I’ve failed to produce an heir and… the clock will start ticking.” 

She gave Zuko a sorrowful stare and sighed. “If we don’t have a waterbender… at some point, they’ll decide that the time for chance is up.”

* * *

Zuko put his hand on her back in comfort as she leaned on the table, absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles as she spoke. “I know, love,” Zuko whispered, biting his lip as he searched for the right words to say– to try to help, to fix it. But, how could he? 

“Hakoda is only our firstborn,” Zuko said. “We have two more babies coming now. One of them is likely to be a waterbender, my love, please don’t get too upset yet,” Zuko tried to assure Katara. “And besides, I don’t really mind all the trying,” he tried to tease her, giving her shoulder a squeeze before sighing. 

“Kat… love, why don’t we worry about one thing at a time? That’s all we can manage,” he urged. “We’re having a baby– two, as a matter of fact. Why don’t we worry about getting ready for having _three_ _babies_ ,” he said with a laugh. “If they all start bending fire, maybe then we’ll worry, but right now, I think we have a full plate as it is,” Zuko cajoled. 

But, his stomach flipped at her implications, and he looked away. “We’ll have one, Kat… we will.”

* * *

“Yeah,” Katara smiled tightly, then stood up, her dinner forgotten. “We kind of have to.” She rubbed her face irritably, finally turning around and taking Zuko’s hands in her own. “Come on… let’s forget about it for now. I have something to show you.”

She led him from the dining room back to their quarters, giving the guards orders not to let anyone disturb them before locking the door behind them. In the solitude of their room, Katara gestured for Zuko to take a seat on their bed, but she didn’t join him. Instead, she stood in front of him, just out of his reach.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay, just…”  Katara wrung her hands together over and over, oddly nervous despite the hundreds of times she’d undressed for him. “My tribe has another tradition… and I know what you’re thinking. You’ve probably had enough with our traditions, between the waterbending heir and the no-men-allowed during childbirth, but…”

Katara’s fingers were shaking as she began undoing her belt. She talked as she unwound it. "Typically, after the lovers return from their wedding week, they celebrate their bond with a tattoo, something that’s representative of the other person.“

“I told my father I didn’t want it, that I’d wait… I’ll admit that I was wary to take such a permanent mark back then. I didn’t… I didn’t know you as much as I wanted to. But, I do now.” Katara glanced up, meeting curious, gold eyes. She pulled her tunic open and pushed it off her shoulders.

She’d purposefully worn nothing beneath it; Katara heard Zuko’s surprised intake of breath at all her naked skin. She smiled shyly, drawing his attention down to her left hip. Her intentions were hard to misunderstand.

Starting just above her hipbone, a dragon made of black ink reared his head. His body twisted down her hip, claws and wings spreading over the top of her thigh. The dragon’s tail wrapped around her leg. The scales were finely drawn and detailed. Wisps of smoke came from his nose and the dragon spewed fire, proud and strong.

“I was up all night getting poked,” Katara said, approaching her husband. She stood between his thighs, letting him touch the raised lines of ink beneath her skin. "I couldn’t think of anything more representative of you than a dragon. You’re fiercely loyal, protective, and loving… and I love you more than anything, Zuko.“

* * *

Zuko watched as his wife’s tunic fluttered to the floor. His eyes scanned her body before she ran her hand over her hip. Then, his eyes caught it– the tattoo. It was of a dragon, one similar to Druk, and Zuko gasped. He was mesmerized by Katara’s markings, and his mouth hung open in awe as she explained. The further she went on, the more tears welled in his eyes. 

It was for him. It was all for him. 

Zuko bit his lip, and a smile spread over his face. He couldn’t fathom that Katara did that for him, and his heart felt like it was so warm it could melt the polar caps outside. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and pressed his cheek to her belly, which carried two of his children. He was smiling, and one hand rested on the small of her back, the other traced the beveled skin over her leg and thigh. 

He didn’t know what he did to be so lucky as to be so loved by a woman as incredible as Katara. But, he trusted her wholly. He’d give her anything, and trust her with it all. It was so strange to think they’d been strangers, and now he trusted her more than his uncle, even. He felt entirely safe with her, and fully loved. 

Overwhelmed by it all, Zuko finally cracked and while he smiled, tears ran off his cheek. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you… I can’t believe you did that for me,” he murmured in awe. “Agni, Katara,” he spoke, shaking his head, kissing her belly. “I love you so much,” he told her. “I’m so lucky,” said the prince with a laugh. “I don’t deserve this… or you,” he said, leaning against her with deep, deep affection. 

“I’ll get one to match,” he whispered, “Of the ocean– because what else could be you?” he told her with a proud smirk, looking up at her. “Strong, fearless, bold… but calm, comforting, and tender too,” he whispered. “I love you, Kat. I always will.”

* * *

“I thought you’d want your own,” Katara laughed, leaning down to kiss Zuko softly. “I scheduled the artist to meet with you tomorrow, because,” she kissed him again, deeper than before, “right now, I want some quality time with my husband, my one and only love.” 

Katara smiled. Her hands unwound from his wrists, skimmed up his arms, and she slowly pushed him down. She climbed onto the bed, hovering over him. Her lips sought out his, and Katara stripped him from his clothes until he was as bare as her, kissing all the newly exposed skin.

She nipped and licked, pecked him even as he pleaded for more, for substance in her kisses. She fueled the need in him until his eyes were dark and lidded with lust. Then, Katara let Zuko have her, let him lay her down and pin her to the mattress with his weight.

They moaned in unison as his cock filled her, and it wasn’t long before Katara’s quiet whispers of his name turned to broken, drawn out pleas. Her mewls filled the room; Zuko’s groans mixed with hers, like sweet music in her ears. She clung to him, pushed over the precipice of bliss by a growl of her name against her neck.

After, Katara laid with her head on his chest, letting her breath slow down while she listened to his heart calm to a steady, even beat. Eventually, she picked herself up and smiled down at him.

“You’re the most perfect man for me,” she murmured, sweeping his hair off his forehead with gentle fingers. “I don’t care what happens in the future. As long as I have you, I’ll never spend a day being unhappy.” 

* * *

Zuko never felt so content. He snuggled close to Katara in the aftermath of their lovemaking, pulling her in close as he caressed her back in a lazy affection. He kissed her cheek, and pulled her in close, feeling so at peace, and so safe in her arms. 

“Forever and always,” whispered Zuko, skimming his fingers up and down her back. He couldn’t believe they were having twins. He couldn’t believe he was so deeply loved. He couldn’t believe he already had a perfect, little boy. He couldn’t believe he was so happy. 

His uncle was right. When it happened over two years ago, Zuko was livid with his uncle, and heartbroken. Still, he never trusted his uncle the same way. He felt betrayed, used, and abandoned. But, it turned out the best thing that ever could have happened to him.


	31. Chapter 31

She labored for eight hours. Zuko had to have been going crazy, despite the midwife stepping out every now and again to update him. Regardless, Katara preferred the privacy of the birthing suite. She wasn’t forced to worry over her husband, and she didn’t have to face him with pale, sweaty skin and uncontained groans from the labor pains.

Katara paced the room a hundred times. She bent over the end of the bed, her fingers digging into the mattress while the midwife rubbed soothing circles into her lower back. She took a hot bath, then a cold one, and listened to her grandmother’s advice about breathing techniques and letting gravity do half the work.

Finally, in the middle of the night, the midwife told her to push. By the early hours of the morning, with the last of her strength fading, a newborn’s cry pierced the quiet confines of the room.

“It’s a boy,” the midwife said. 

Fresh energy washed over Katara, renewed strength and a surge of love. Tears filled her eyes as she waited, listening to the baby cry. The midwife clipped the cord, wiped the little boy off, then handed him to his mother.

“A good, strong cry,” she murmured, smiling at Katara. “He’s a healthy baby.” 

Katara felt her tears slip down her cheeks. With her son in her arms, she felt complete, like she’d been missing little pieces of her heart and he filled in all the cracks. Pure, unadulterated love swelled in her chest, and Katara bent her head to his, whispering adoration over him.

“Shh… _shh,_ my little snowflake. My sweet, little snowflake.” Katara brushed the boy’s cheek with her fingertips, down to his pink lips. They matched hers. His skin was the color of chestnuts, his hair dark and thick. He looked so much like her, she thought her heart would burst. 

Katara kissed his nose, cooing to him and nuzzling the top of his head. Then, she cradled the baby against her breast and the boy latched quickly. Gran-Gran helped her lay back on the pillows while the few remaining attendants stepped out to provide some privacy.

For a while, Katara simply watched her son feed. He was beautiful, so wholly perfect. She couldn’t stop telling him. When Katara, at last, tore her eyes away, she Katara noticed the midwife waiting patiently. The chieftess nodded, and the woman exited the room to find Zuko in the hall.

“My Prince,” she said, “would you like to meet your son?” 

* * *

Zuko had been pacing back and forth all night. He chewed on his hand in anxiety to the point where it bled, and his stomach was in knots. He wanted to see her, hearing she was okay wasn’t enough. But, he waited– and waited, and heard from behind the doors his wife’s cries of pain, and he wished he could do something to ease them. He felt so useless from back here, pacing while she did everything, and he did nothing. 

It felt like years had passed, and every time it took too long for the midwife to check him in on everything, Zuko was terrified something horrid had happened to Katara or the baby. Finally, Zuko heard a cry, and he sighed in relief with a shaky breath that twisted to a laugh. Zuko fell to the bench finally, and sighed again. 

The baby was born. 

Suddenly, Zuko was afraid. He felt separated and ostracized from his family out here, and the fear of becoming his father seized in his chest. What if he wasn’t good enough for his child? What if he hurt them? What if he wasn’t there enough? What if he neglected Katara through it all? What if he became a bad husband? What if he was a bad dad? What if his child would never want to call him Dad at all? 

The midwife peeked her head out, and Zuko stood anxiously and eagerly. Zuko nodded, and swept through the doors to meet his baby. The room was warm and smelled of sweat. But, Zuko’s face melted the second he saw his wife holding their baby– their son, a baby boy– nursing him his heart turned to pure putty. He had never felt such an overtaking love in his life than this sight. His heart felt molten and warm, and as he kneeled before them both, Zuko was already riddled to tears– but all with a smile on his face. 

“Spirits… he looks just like you,” Zuko said with a laugh, his face drenched in tears. “He’s gorgeous… he’s perfect,” Zuko told Katara, taking her hand. He pulled it gently to his lips, leaving a lingering affectionate kiss. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” Zuko spoke, more tears- this time of sheer relief from his fear– falling. He was terrified. 

“I’ve never felt so happy in my life,” Zuko said with a laugh, his forehead falling against her hand. “I love you… I love you so much,” Zuko told her, kissing her hand. He sat up then, and just looked at them while he cried, smiling and laughing. He couldn’t take his eyes off his son. Zuko loved him to bits already. He’d strike a man dead for even joking about harming him. He’d do anything for this little baby. 

“He’s perfect. Agni, he’s so perfect,” Zuko laughed again. “I love him… he’s beautiful, like his mom, he’s beautiful,” Zuko told her. “I’m so glad he’s healthy… I- I can’t believe it- he’s here, our baby… our son… this person we made… I– I can’t believe it,” Zuko choked out, overwhelmed by it all and overtired, though he was sure, nothing to even attempt to compare to the weariness of his wife. But still, he wept– a mix of emotions coursing through him. 

Zuko was filled to the brim with soaring, instinctive, protective love. He wanted to do everything for this baby, and he swore to himself he would. “Hakoda,” Zuko whispered with a smile, then meeting his wife’s eyes as he leaned in to kiss her lips. He was eager to hold his son, but wouldn’t dare to even think or consider to take him away as he fed. 

“We should name our son Hakoda… what– what do you think?” Zuko asked, wiping at his face. “I want to name him Hakoda… after your father.”

* * *

“Hakoda,” Katara tested the name, looking down at the baby in her arms. He seemed so content, so warm and safe and happy to be hers. She suddenly couldn’t imagine her life without him; she couldn’t picture her days before him.

Katara smiled as she ruffled the boy’s thick hair. “It’s a good name. My father would be so proud.” She lifted her eyes to Zuko’s, unbridled love and gratitude in them. “Thank you. And thank you for him, for Hakoda.”

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping from her chin to splatter the nursing babe. Katara half-laughed, half-sobbed, and gingerly wiped the salt-water from Hakoda’s face before relaxing against the pillows, again.

“Come here,” she whispered, patting the open space on the bed. “Lay with us, Zuko. Come adore your son.” 

* * *

Zuko couldn’t believe how he felt- there was nothing like it. Before, he’d ridicule the notion of love at first sight, but this was just that. He loved his son more than anything. He was already melted into a puddle of mush. 

Years ago, if you’d asked him, he’d never have thought he could have been this happy. He never thought he’d ever feel so content. No less, he was happy in the Southern Water Tribe, and deeply in love with his arranged marriage spouse. He’d never have thought this possible. But, it was, and here he was– with the life they’d made together. 

Zuko was still crying with a smile as he climbed into bed with Katara. He sighed in relief when his head hit the pillow, plumb exhausted. But, he wasn’t ready to sleep. He wanted to stare at his son until his eyes fell out. He didn’t want to take his eyes off him. He’d happily volunteer to hold him while Katara slept. She more than earned it, and he’d love to spend the time with him. He was eager to hold the baby in his arms– their little Hakoda. 

Zuko looked at Katara warmly, and smiled, kissing her cheek. “Agni, I love you,” Zuko said with a laugh, his tears mixing with hers as he pressed his cheek to hers. “I’ve never been so happy in my entire life,” Zuko said, snuggled to the pillow, and looking at their baby. “He’s so perfect, Katara,” Zuko said warmly, tenderly reaching out to stroke his cheek as gingerly as possible. 

Hakoda yawned when he did, and Zuko thought he’d melt at the sight. He laughed warmly, and instead of feeling more afraid, he felt less. He knew he’d never, ever hurt him. “I promise I’ll never hurt you,” Zuko whispered, speaking to the baby. “I’ll be the greatest father I can be,” he promised his son. “I’ll always love you,” uttered Zuko, smiling at the baby as he finished feeding. 

“I love you, Katara… I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, wiping at his eyes as he kept watching Hakoda. “Spirits, can I hold him?”

* * *

“Yes… yes, of course.” Katara shifted Hakoda into Zuko’s waiting arms, albeit reluctantly. She didn’t think she’d ever have enough time to hold him herself. Her body already ached for the warmth and weight of her son, but Katara still smiled at the pure joy filling Zuko’s eyes.

He looked so happy, so in love. It struck her that he’d likely never expected this; she hadn’t either. But, regardless of their circumstances, they had a family and a marriage that was worth something. They had each other.

Katara rested her head on Zuko’s shoulder and sighed, “Thank you… for being everything. You’re all I could ever want in a husband and a father.” She moved to peck Zuko’s cheek, then turned her attention to the sleepy Hakoda. “I love you both so much.” 

* * *

Everything was perfect in that moment. The baby was perfect in his arms, and Zuko could hardly believe that Hakoda was his, but he looked so much like Katara, it was impossible not to notice how he was a piece of each of them. Zuko was overflowing with love for his son. He used his fingertips to stroke the baby’s back, and smiled. 

He put an arm around his wife, and never wanted to leave this sleepy, tender loving moment. Her words touched him, striking another chord that had tears leaking from his eyes once more. Zuko kissed Katara’s forehead, “I love you… I love Hakoda,” Zuko spoke fondly, still never taking his melted, soft, loving eyes from his son. Hakoda didn’t even flinch when he rested on his father’s chest. It was like he knew, and that made Zuko smile. 

“I can’t wait to see where our little man takes us.”


	32. Chapter 32

The months seemed to fly by, and the years followed, rapidly slipping away with blissful love and genuine happiness.

Before Katara could blink, she gave birth to two healthy girls, who they named Ursa and Kya. They were beautiful babies, with Zuko’s ivory complexion and golden eyes beneath thick, raven hair. The girls possessed his talent with fire, too, as Zuko and Katara found out sometime after the girls turned four.

The six-year-old Hakoda was ecstatic, of course, but Katara couldn’t hide the stress in her gaze, not when it was her alone with Zuko.

Two more firebenders. She sensed the council breathing down her neck. It was brought up at every meeting, mentioned in passing in the hall— _I see no heir, Chieftess._ She warded them off as best she could. She was only twenty-seven. She had ten child-bearing years, yet. She and Zuko were trying; She got pregnant. _Again._

Deep down, it was turning into everything she feared: Her pregnancies had become nothing more than prayers for a waterbender. Her body was tired. Her spirit was breaking down. She whispered every night to the gods for an heir, but they didn’t hear her. They didn’t care.

On her twenty-eighth birthday, Katara brought another boy into the world. He looked just like his deceased grandfather and uncle, but Katara named him for Fire Lord Iroh. Perhaps his name was her mistake— like his eldest brother, Iroh the Second produced fire before he turned two.

It wasn’t long before fights ensued.

With Zuko, it was always the same. He’d beg her to try again. He’d promise that this time, the next baby, _we’ll have one, we’ll have our waterbender,_ as if he had any control over such things. She didn’t want to try. She didn’t want any more children, not if the only reason was to produce an heir and make the council happy.

The old men were worse. They all but ignored what she wanted and said. They threatened to bring in a man from the North. _Arnook has a waterbending cousin who’d fill the role nicely; he can be your successor._ When they weren’t threatening her with different leadership, they were shoving lists of eligible, waterbending men into her hands, ordering her to remarry, hissing to her that her Fire Nation husband would never give her what she needed.

It was Pakku who broke through Katara’s stubbornness. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“Am I going to tell Zuko, whom I’ve been more than happily married to for ten years, that my council is advising me to divorce him?” she scoffed. “Are you serious?”

“You don’t necessarily have to divorce him,” the old man said. 

“Oh. Right. I can simply have a child by another man and hope my husband still wants me after I’m finished.” Katara growled under her breath and laid her head down on her desk. After a moment of thick silence, she muttered, "I guess we could always try again.“

“You and Zuko?” Pakku asked, skeptical. “You’ve had four firebenders, Katara, and you’re in your thirties.”

“I’m thirty one! Women have children as late as forty! Do you understand what you’re telling me to do?”

Her voice filled the quiet office with anger. The teacup sitting on her desk crystallized with a sheet of ice, on the verge of shattering like her heart. Katara stared down at it, feeling the weight of Pakku’s gaze and practically hearing his thoughts.

_Get your emotions in check_ , he’d say. _A true master doesn’t let the ice crack every time she’s angry._

Katara looked up at him. There was sorrow in Pakku’s eyes. He knew this pained her; it pained him, too, but fury still simmered beneath the surface of her skin. "My father would not make me do this.“

“Your father lived by the law, Chieftess. He surpassed his firstborn son the moment you began bending water. The law states—”

“—I know! A waterbending heir. In the absence of a waterbending heir, a successor will be chosen from our sister tribe,” Katara’s voice broke. Tears were filling her eyes. "I don’t want the North here. They don’t know us.“

Pakku nodded, slow and grave. “So… you need to speak with your husband.”

Katara swallowed, repeating after him. "I need to speak with my husband.“  

* * *

The years flew by faster than he could blink. It didn’t seem possible that an entire decade could go by so quickly, but as they said, time flies when you’re having fun. They, of course, had their fair share of struggles over the years, as any family would. But, all-in-all, they were happy. Every day, Zuko found something to smile about. Every day, he thanked the Spirits for blessing him with such a wonderful family. He never thought he’d have a chance at love, but now, his life was full to the brim, and overflowing with it. 

Before he knew it, Zuko had four, beautiful children. Each of them were unique, talented, and intelligent. He loved each of them more than he could put into words, and they all made him beam with pride. Zuko had taken off from his work as ambassador, and now only worked for special events, so he could keep a better eye on their children. They were all so little, and quite the handful. Zuko loved every second of it– even when he was running around, and falling face first in the snow. His favorite of times, however, was their annual trips to Ember Island. He would meet up with his uncle, cousin, cousin-in-law, and their children. 

They had just gotten back from their last trip, and the kids had missed the snow. He was out with them, and they were dragging their sleds to and fro, giggling as they went down the slope outside the palace. Zuko held little Iroh close in his arms, smiling as Hakoda called for his father to watch him as he skidded down the snow. 

“Daddy, Daddy, look at me!” Kya called jealously, and Zuko laughed turning his head. 

“One at a time!” Zuko called, “I have two eyes and four kids!” he teased. But, his eyes tore from the three of them when he heard crunching in the snow behind him. His eyes softened when he noticed his wife. 

“Kat,” Zuko said, walking over to her. “How was the council meeting, my love? You should see how many times Kya has gone down that hill,” laughed Zuko. “And, Ursa made a snowman, she’s very proud of it.”

* * *

“There’s no stopping them, is there?” Katara smiled warmly across the snow, watching Kya zip down. She seemed hellbent on disrupting her sister, who’d positioned a carefully constructed snowman— Ursa was quite the perfectionist— at the bottom of the hill.

A laugh filled the air as Kya picked up speed. Katara watched, amused, while Ursa shrieked and moved in front of her creation, shouting her sister's name, “Kya! Kya, no! _Mom!!_ Mama, do something!”

Katara let it go on for just a moment longer, and at the very last second, changed Kya’s projection and sent her flying past the snowman. Kya let out a disappointed growl as Ursa squealed happily. It wasn’t a minute before Hakoda wiped the grin off Ursa’s face with a well-placed snowball. A fight bloomed between all the siblings, and Katara shook her head.

“Agni, you’d think we never let them outside,” she laughed, linking her arm in Zuko’s. Iroh squirmed in his grasp, and Zuko set him down, shouting after the other siblings to watch their youngest brother.

They watched the three year old scramble off, his pudgy legs looking even fatter as he sank in the snow. Then, Katara tugged Zuko’s arm for his attention. Her smile had fallen.

“I need to talk to you,” she said. "Look at them. What do you see?“ She pointed at the kids. “I see… well, joy. They’re happy, _happy_ kids. They have a wonderful father, and bright futures ahead of them. They’re smart and loving and _mostly_ sweet.”

Katara stole a breath, gathering her courage to tell him about the council meeting.

“The council sees four firebenders,” she whispered. The cold air suddenly felt colder. Katara felt Zuko stiffen beside her; she could hardly move herself, much less look up at him. “They see me as… _old,_ too old to leave it up to chance anymore.”  

She licked her lips. The tears Katara fought off in front of Pakku were back, burning her eyes as she glared down at the snow. “The council wants me to remarry, Zuko. I’ve been warding them off since the twins were born, and today, I flat-out _refused_ … but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m thirty-one years old and I do not have an heir.”

“I _need_ an heir,” Katara finally looked at her husband, “or I will lose control of the tribe my father worked so hard to rebuild, the tribe I’ve held together through the unimaginable. I have to have a waterbending child.” 

* * *

Zuko froze, and not from the snow. Katara’s words made it feel like his heart stilled in his chest. His gaze fell to his feet, as if that could keep him away from the pain, he could vanish from this conversation. But, his eyes shot up to look at her, deep-cutting pain and fear in them when she spoke of remarrying. Panic seized in his chest, and snatched the air from his lungs. 

Zuko took her hand in his mitten-clad ones, clasping hers between his, and looking at her desperately. “Agni, Kat, _please_ ,” Zuko spoke, his heart shattering. He tried to hold in how upset he was growing because he didn’t want their children to see him so, but he was panicking. “Please don’t leave me, please,” Zuko whispered, pressing her hand to his lips. “Please… please don’t ask me to go,” he pleaded. “I love you. I love you so much,” he whispered. 

“The children… and… I promise,” Zuko stated. “I’ll give you a waterbender. Please,” Zuko begged her. “I promise. I _promise_ I’ll give you an heir,” he murmured so quietly, to hide the cracking in his voice. “Maybe… maybe there’s… we can pray… we can make an offering to the spirits,” Zuko rambled, his eyes darting to the children. He feared their family structure falling apart. Zuko feared all they predicted, the sages, about being nothing more than a sperm donor, and now he’d failed that duty, his only true purpose. When it boiled down to things, after a decade of happiness, and a loving family, he was in the end, still, nothing more than that. 

“Katara, _**please**_ , I’ll do _anything_.”

* * *

Katara shook her head slowly. “I don’t think you can, Zuko. I don’t— that’s not a promise you can make. We were pregnant with twins and we thought, _surely,_ one would bend water. Then, we had Iroh, and we thought he would be it…” She bit her lip and looked away.

“I’m not… I’m not remarrying,” Katara said after a long pause. She could sense Zuko’s panic that she would. She tried to reassure him. “I don’t want to, and I told the council that such a solution will never work. But—" 

She swallowed and looked down at their hands. Zuko was clutching her fingers for dear life, like letting go meant losing her. Katara didn’t know how to assure him that it didn’t. He had her for life; he always would.

Katara ran her thumbs over the backs of his knuckles. “Do you remember telling me about the Fire Lords… and concubines?”

The conversation was from so long ago, back when he first arrived, on their first night together. They’d talked about everything. Katara had even brushed on this topic; though, she didn’t think it’d be a reality.

A part of her wished they could back to that hut, back to the time when things were blissful and easy and her greatest concern was his opinion of her naked body. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, finally opening them with a shaky sigh.

“This would be similar,” she said. Her words began spilling faster than her mind could keep up, “except… well, there’ll be only one man and the man will be _willing_. He wouldn’t be a slave or forced into it. He’ll be someone I pick, someone I trust and someone _you_ can trust to respect our marriage. His only purpose will be to give me a child and… that’s all.”

Katara sucked down air. “It’ll just be procreation. A baby, that’s it. It’s that or I lose the South. My family, my bloodline, loses the South. I’m willing to do anything to prevent that, Zuko, even bed another man.“  

* * *

Zuko felt like he had the wind knocked out of him. He’d known of this for years. He remembered, so many years ago, Hakoda telling him of it. He remembered Pakku bringing it up. He remembered dismissing it, feeling so sure that his wife, his loving, wonderful Katara would never do it to him. Everything so quickly felt so fragile at these words. He knew of this in theory for years, but he still felt so blindsided. It was incredible how a mere sentence could make him feel like _nothing_. 

He didn’t know what to say. Zuko didn’t want her to do it. The thought made him sick. It sounded worse than if she just fucked someone. She wanted to have a baby with another man– that was something special, something they shared. They raised their children– together. It was something intimate, parenting together the children they made together. It wasn’t something Zuko felt willing to share. 

He wasn’t willing to think of Katara sleeping with another, either. He didn’t want to think about her holding him, or kissing him, or looking at him the way he thought she’d only ever look at him. The fact she was willing– hurt him enough. But, really, what choice did she have? He was brought here to make babies. But, what about the treaty? The point was to mix their bloodlines on the throne. The Fire Nation had half Water Tribe babies on their throne now. The Water Tribe would not. 

“What about the treaty?” asked Zuko quietly, his brow furrowed in distress. His voice was below a whisper. He felt so small– and so alone. In the end, he was just a pawn in the treaty– to his uncle, who threw him away, sent him off alone, and now, in a sense, to Katara as well. 

Zuko looked over at his children, and his head took the path of the worst-case-scenario. What about their family? What about their kids? Zuko put his hand over his forehead as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He had so many questions he felt he wasn’t even to be entitled to, now. He shook his head. 

How long would it take for her to get pregnant? When they were trying- it was fun, and he hardly kept track, but Spirits knew how many tries. Zuko would lose a bit of his soul every time she bedded him. A tear fell from his eye reluctantly, and he kept his hand over his face in shame, and so the children wouldn’t take note. 

“ _Katara_ ,” Zuko struggled to speak, not knowing where to even begin. Her mind was made up. The way she told the story, he should be grateful he wasn’t being thrown out entirely. The Water Tribe, in the end, was proving to be just as cruel as the Fire Nation. They wanted her to throw him out, her family, discard their children because they weren’t the right benders. They wanted her to replace him like he was nothing– nothing but a figurehead to plant a baby in her. It didn’t matter how long they’d been married, how they had a whole family. It sounded like he was supposed to count his blessings– he was supposed to be replaced fully. They were to get her a new husband and throw him away like he was yesterday’s news. The attitude they held made him worry for his fire bending children. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say… or if it even _matters_.”

* * *

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can say…” Katara watched as her husband all but fell apart, her chest aching with pent up tears.

She wanted to hold him. She wanted to wrap him up tight and walk back to the palace. She wanted to hide in their bed, make him a million promises about how she’d always love him, how she’d never leave him. Those things were true; they always would be, but her feet seemed stuck in the snow.

Katara was frozen, her limbs, her voice. She simply held Zuko’s hand, sensing that time was slipping by, but not really knowing it. She was silent and still, only capable of an imperceptible shake of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally. Katara pulled her hand out of his and stepped closer, cradling his cheeks in her palms. She made Zuko look at her, hoped he’d see that his heartbreak matched hers. “I’m so sorry. Please… please know that.” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her with eyes watery, and he put his hands over hers, his lip quivering. “Is he… this man… will he stay in the palace? I…” Zuko trailed off, shaking his head, and a tear slipped past his restraints as he did. His eyes fluttered shut then, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Never mind,” Zuko choked out, holding her wrist. 

It would be unfathomably cruel for him to ever ask someone to step out of their own child’s life. He couldn’t do it, no matter how much he’d rather he get to adopt the child as his own. How could he watch her raise a baby alongside another man? How could he answer his own children’s questions? What the hell was to come of the treaty? 

Zuko stood there, millions of questions swirling in his head while he worried, and his heart sunk deeper and deeper. He wanted to ask so many things, but had no courage to. He felt shut out, and in the dark. He felt so worthless– all of a sudden. 

–The only thing that took his mind from it was Ursa pulling at his shirt. 

“Daddy!” she all but yelped, tears making her eyes puffy. Zuko stirred, pulling from his wife’s embrace, and wiping his own face, trying so hard to seem collected for them as he knelt to her level. 

“What happened, turtle duck?” asked Zuko, brushing her hair from her face and cupping her little cheek. 

Ursa noticed her father’s upset demeanor. “Daddy, are you sad?” 

“No, no, I– I got snow on my face,” lied Zuko, “why are you sad, Princess?”

“Kya knocked down my snowman!” she cried, and Zuko smiled at her, wiping away her tear with his thumb. She looked so much like Katara, and he loved her so– and he loved his wife too. He loved them all more than anything. It still felt like a horrid nightmare. He felt like this man, who hadn’t even been selected yet, was coming in to rip his family out from under him. He felt so disposable. He felt so used, no matter the logic he talked himself into from their years of loving bliss. He prayed the feeling was fleeting and initial, but he knew the deep cut was sinking only further and further.

* * *

Katara swallowed her emotions as best she could when Ursa came running up, grateful that Zuko was quicker than her. She wiped her eyes while he was bent over in the snow. He needed saving, too, though. Katara could see the agony written all over his face, despite his sweet smile for his daughter.

Walking past him, she squeezed his shoulder, then grabbed Ursa’s hand. “Come along, my snowflake. I’ll build you _ten_ snowmen. We can hide behind them and throw snowballs at Kya while she sleds.”

That seemed enough to cheer up Ursa. She went darting off, taunting Kya about having Mama on her team. Zuko and Hakoda joined Kya, and Katara swept Iroh up into her arms, sheltering him as the family battled in the snow. The kids’ laughter was almost enough to make her forget. _Almost._

The six of them eventually went inside. They ate dinner, Katara and Zuko mostly silent while the kids chattered on and on. Soon, the children were sent off to bed, Katara got Iroh down, and she made her way back to the bedroom she shared with Zuko.

It took more courage than she expected to slip inside, but Katara did. Her husband was waiting up for her, looking more sorrowful than he had in the snow. If such a thing was possible. Katara swallowed and went to the bed to sit beside him.

“I hope you know that I love you,” she said, taking his hand. “I’ve loved you for ten years and nothing that happens will change that. You’re my husband and you’re the father of my children. I won’t let anyone take that away.”

* * *

Zuko waited on their bed, thinking of all the nights they shared here over the past decade. He felt so empty, and wished he still had the distraction of playing with his children in the snow. 

Zuko ran his hands over the quilt, which had embroidery in the Fire Nation style on it. Katara had given it to him for their fifth anniversary. He wondered bitterly if she’d fuck this other man on it. Would Katara take him to their bed? How many times would Zuko have to sleep alone in a guest room thinking about it? Tears fell steadily now, in the quiet of the room, his first time alone. 

He startled when his wife opened the door, and quickly used his pajama sleeve to wipe at his face, glancing away when she entered in shame. He didn’t want her to feel guilty– this wasn’t entirely her choice. He was just so upset, and finally alone, and couldn’t help it. He was _hurting_. 

When Katara sat beside him, he gave her a small smile, and squeezed her hand. Her words brought him comfort, despite everything, and this time, the tears fell freely, and he leaned his head into her shoulder. “I love you so much… I’m so happy here, Katara,” Zuko told her, pinching his eyes shut. 

“That’s why I’m _afraid_ ,” he admitted. “I’m afraid because I won’t be the _only father to your children anymore_.”

* * *

“I’m scared, too,” Katara murmured. She let her head hang low and her eyes drifted shut. She didn’t know what to say. A large part of her hated that she’d been asked to betray her husband, while the rest of her knew her country was far more important than fidelity.

It wasn’t as if she was _seeking out_ another man; she wasn’t falling in love with him. She was trapped between two impossible decisions, both of which could cost her dearly. Katara tried to think of what her father would say, but all she had was Pakku’s guidance: her father would abide by the law, and he wouldn’t give up his nation to preserve his feelings.

This was going to hurt. It’d hurt herself and her husband. If they weren’t careful, it could hurt her children. What would they think? They’d discern the truth sooner or later. They’d figure out that their mother stepped outside her marriage bed, especially if a pregnancy took. She couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ ask the man to keep away from his child.

Katara sniffed as tears slipped down her cheeks. She squeezed Zuko’s hand tightly. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want you to think that I’m eager for this. I’m not. I don’t know how I’m supposed to face some other man and… give away pieces of me… I’ve given myself _to you_.”

“My nation has to remain the most important thing to me,” she said, praying he’d understand. “I was born to do this, Zuko, to protect my nation and uphold my people’s traditions. I can’t keep risking everything. I have to do this.” 

* * *

Zuko swallowed thickly as he refused to leave her arms. He wanted to cling to her, to remind himself that Katara was still his. He tried to talk himself down from panicking. Zuko tried to calm himself down into thinking that he’d lose her. Zuko told himself that she loved him, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d have sex with him, and maybe it’d only take a few tries, and she’d come back to his bed. Maybe she wouldn’t hold him. Maybe she wouldn’t kiss him. Maybe she wouldn’t give him her heart. It would wound him, but it didn’t have to shatter him.

The tears kept falling though, and he didn’t know what he’d do. All he wanted to do was beg Katara not to leave him. He wanted to go to his uncle, but he didn’t even think he could confide in him. This was likely supposed to be a secret from everyone. It couldn’t be known the baby wasn’t his… then it would mess with the contents of the treaty. He’d have to suffer silently. 

Zuko gripped her hand tighter the longer he thought on it, and he was only working himself up into feeling worse now, instead of better. “I do understand,” Zuko admitted, “That’s why I’m not– I’m not angry,” he spoke, tears dripping from his chin silently. “I’m hurt… I’m… I’m sad, but I’m not angry… I feel like… I- I want to be… It feels like cheating, but I know it’s not. I know it’s different, and I’m just so hurt… just thinking about it, _and_ … I’m angry at the council… I’m angry at the Spirits, for not just letting one of our kids bend water,” Zuko spat, swallowing thickly. 

“What if you still don’t have a water bender?” asked Zuko– the child could still be a non bender. “What am I supposed to… what is will this man be? What am I now?”

* * *

“He’ll be the father. He…” Katara caught her breath in her throat. She was trying hard to be strong, to hold her marriage together, but she felt like she was failing everyone. Especially her husband. If it meant digging her nails in and refusing to let Zuko go, she’d do it. But at what personal cost?

Her chest ached. Katara rubbed her sternum with her free hand, looking for the right words, the right way to explain what she’d been told. “The other man will be required to live here in the palace. He’ll be given a job, probably as a guard, and he’ll have a place in his child’s life, waterbender or not.”

“I can’t ask him to leave, Zuko.” She met her husband’s gaze. No matter what he felt about the situation, Katara knew his heart would resonate with that. He’d feared being little more than a sperm donor himself. He wouldn’t wish that on another man.

“Outside these walls, no one will know the child isn’t ours, but that doesn’t mean that here, inside the palace, the man won’t have a place in his child’s life,” she explained. “To ask that of anyone would just be cruel.”

Katara watched as fresh tears filled Zuko’s eyes, and her courage waned. She blinked, sending her hot streaks down her own cheeks, and looked away.

_“Um…"_ she tried for a different subject. "Right, you asked if the baby isn’t a waterbender… _uh—”_ Katara shrugged, horrendously and inexplicably sick to her stomach. “I don’t know. I’ll have to keep going until I have one, I guess. Or, until I’m too old to get pregnant… I… that possibility terrifies me.” 

* * *

Zuko was crying, but he’d restrained himself from completely breaking– until this point. He inhaled sharply, and when he went to release it, a sob escaped, and he hid behind his hand once more. He was doing his best to be strong through this, but it was difficult. It was _impossible_ , it seemed. 

This man would always be there to remind him. He’d always be with Katara. He could always sweep in and try to sweep her off her feet, and out from under his. He would always, for the rest of their lives, be there, and Zuko would have to be reminded of how he would never, ever be the only man in Katara’s life. There would always be another man she parented with– and this man would co-raise their heir, and Zuko would be stuck in this pain alone. 

“I… I understand… of course… he– he would want to be with his own baby, of course,” muttered Zuko, his lip quivering in spite of himself. This was all quickly becoming too much, too fast. He felt like in these mere hours his entire world was crumbling. He was terrified of becoming nothing. He was horrified this was the beginning of the end. Nothing would be sacred anymore.

He didn’t want her hurt, though. Zuko could tell that she was serious, she wasn’t just saying it to make him feel better. He knew his wife well enough to know that she meant it. She was upset about this. She wasn’t excited, wasn’t even indifferent. 

Zuko put a hand on her back in comfort. “You’ll have a water bender with him… he’ll be one too, so the odds will be good. Don’t fret… and you– you could have ten years yet,” Zuko assured her, but inside he almost felt sick to his stomach. “There will be a water bender,” he whispered. 

Zuko blinked away his tears, but his breaths were still shaky and labored. He stood up and walked to the window, to those curtains. The window was his favorite place when he was upset, and he anxiously played with the fabric of the curtains while he worried. 

“I– I… I’m getting a glass of water… I… maybe some tea, um… do– do you want anything, love?”

* * *

Katara looked at Zuko in surprise, but ultimately shook her head. “No… no, thank you. I’m alright, love.” 

He darted from the room like she’d been holding him captive, and Katara let out a shaky, tear-ridden breath. _This was it. This had to be it._ He was pulling away from her. He was leaving her. She’d never have his heart again after this. 

Katara kept her lips pressed together for as long as she could. Her heart started pounding and gulps of air hissed through her nose. Her seal broke— a scream ripped from Katara’s throat, making the chandelier tremble and the vases quake. She threw herself back on the bed, her fists slamming into the mattress, and that’s the vases broke. 

Water spilled off the nightstand and the tea table in front of the fireplace. Katara couldn’t bring herself to care. She turned her head and watched it soak into the rug, watched the stain spread like the anxiety in her chest. 

_She was going to lose him_ _,_ her thoughts said _._

Katara sat up, her fingers like claws against her throat. She fought for air, and finding none, left the bedroom. She went stumbling into the hall. 

“Chieftess?” One of the guards stationed outside her door caught her. His face was a picture of modest concern. He’d likely heard the discussion. The guards heard everything; they were paid for their discretion.

She straightened and pulled out of his grasp. “I’m sorry… I need to… I need to _bend._ Tell my husband I’m in the practice arena, if he asks.” 

 

* * *

Zuko’s head was spinning, and tea always calmed him down. He wasn’t sure what it was about tea, if it was the actual calming effect of the beverage, or the reminder of home and his uncle, or some sort of placebo, but it calmed him down. He sat at the little table in the kitchen, looking through scrolls, and paintings his children made. 

There was one Hakoda made, as he had a penchant for art, and it was of their whole family, together, holding hands. Zuko’s eyes glazed over as he traced each one, and fear took hold in his chest. His greatest fear was losing his family. It always seemed so irrational, just an anxiety, easily dismissed. It felt real now. It felt like they could so easily break and crumble, and Zuko found himself wishing they were just everyday people living in the countryside. 

Zuko finished his tea, and finally went to head back to bed, his heart still incredibly heavy. He yearned for the only person who’d been able to always pull him up from a dark place. She was still his person, she always would be. She still made him feel safe, and loved. 

But, when he got back to bed, he’d found that she wasn’t there any more, and his heart only sunk further with the fear that it was a terrible omen of what was to come. 


	33. Chapter 33

It took until well after midnight for Katara to wear herself down enough to sleep, but she eventually went back to her bed. Zuko was curled up on his side. His hand stretched across the mattress, reaching for where she should be. 

Katara slipped out of her clothes and snuck beneath the blankets beside him, pressing up close. She buried her nose in his chest like she always did, pulled his arm around her waist, and shoved her feet under his leg for warmth. It was their usual way of sleeping— always close, always touching— but on this night, it felt so hollow and empty. 

There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say to take away Zuko’s obvious pain. _Except pray._ Katara fell asleep with as many names of the spirits as she could remember on her lips, and when she awoke the next morning, she thanked them for their answer– her husband was still there. He hadn’t pulled away in the night.

“My love,” Katara stirred, gently reaching up and brushing Zuko’s hair from his face. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, drawing him out of whatever dream he was having. “Love, the sun’s up. You’re not… and our little fire gremlins will come bounding into our bed soon.” 

* * *

Zuko stirred slowly with a yawn, and smile tenderly when he noted Katara’s closeness. He was relieved to see she’d come to bed, and she was in pajamas, so he knew eventually, she’d returned. Zuko leaned down and kissed her back, sleepiness still in his eyes. “I can’t say I’d exactly be upset if they did,” teased Zuko back, and he began stretching, slinging his legs over the bed. 

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled through another yawn. “Did you sleep all right?” asked Zuko, setting his hands in his lap, and there was a somberness to his tone, a _knowingness_. Zuko let out a shaky sigh, trying to shake the feeling, and in the nick of time, their little ones came tumbling in, squealing, and Zuko smiled. 

“Mama! Papa!” cried Ursa clambering onto their bed excitedly. The four of them pulled up onto the king-size bed, looking for attention. Zuko laughed warmly as Iroh tackled him and he fell on his back with laughter. Every day, it started like this, and Zuko hoped it would stay that way. He hoped this all wasn’t about to go to hell in handbasket.

* * *

It was their morning tradition to do just this. The children would sneak from their rooms and come tumbling into their parents’ bed with squeals of joy. When she still had young babies, Katara would scoop up Iroh or Kya or Ursa and sit on the couch to nurse while Zuko wrestled the others. Now that her youngest was three, Katara was able to join in on the festivities. 

She rolled around with the children, tickling them, helping them pin Zuko down. Hakoda found his father’s ticklish spots and a violently thrashing Zuko sent the kids into fits of hysterics. As his revenge, Zuko held Hakoda down and covered his face with kisses, making the boy squirm and shout. The girls all laughed; baby Iroh clapped his hands. 

Eventually, the children’s tutor knocked on the door, and all but Iroh were sent scurrying off for baths, breakfast, and lessons. Katara kissed them each on the cheek before they went scampering away. She picked up Iroh, the last in line, and gave him off to his nurse. 

Alone, but for the quiet presence of her husband, the air quickly turned solemn. She paused in the doorway, staring off down the hall, wondering if mornings like this were fast approaching their end. How would it work with another man? With his child? Katara worried about Zuko even accepting the baby into their family.

She rubbed her temples and turned around, offering him a tight smile. “I guess we should get ready, too,” Katara muttered. “Do you want to shower with me?” 

* * *

No matter how many times they went through that ritual, it always made him smile. It was the perfect way for him to wake up– better than a fresh cup of tea. Zuko was left smiling, even when the children left, and all but Katara and their worries remained. Zuko let out a shaky breath and stepped towards her- his eyes shimmered with a hurt, but even still, a deep affection behind them. 

Zuko put his hand on her neck gently, and nodded, his thumb caressing her skin tenderly. “That sounds nice,” he replied sincerely, and leaned in to kiss her, lingering a moment in sadness, like he had to hold on now while he had the chance– before this all ended. It made his heart ache as he followed her to their en suite.

Zuko pulled his pajamas over his head and stripped from his pants, quiet, his hand skimming over the tattoo he’d worn for eight years on his leg. He wondered what Katara’s new lover would think of hers. He wondered what this man who’d have the privilege of bedding his wife would even be like. He wondered if he’d respect her. He wondered if he’d love her. He wondered if he’d hate him. Zuko did _not_ want to share. What hurt him most was the expectation of having to share his life with Katara with this strange man– this man now got to have a family with Katara, and that was something Zuko always felt only he’d be privy to. 

But, really, he was nothing special. He was as disposable here as he was in the Fire Nation. With _everyone_ here. 

* * *

Katara let Zuko go first, silently watching as he stripped, tested the water, then stepped into the shower. His body was strong, a perfect picture of lithe muscles and taut skin. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes. Katara always said they were from laughing. He’d grown a short beard and stopped shaving the rest of his body once she told him it’d ward off the cold. His hair had streaks of grey around his temples, but after ten years, he looked very much the same. 

She was drawn to him still and beyond attracted to him. As she undressed, and her eyes skimmed down her body, Katara wondered what Zuko thought her. She wondered what the new man would think: if he’d love her breasts despite how they’d changed shape after nursing four children, if he’d think anything of the stretch marks on her belly, if he’d kiss her thighs and tell her they were strong and pretty. 

Almost reluctantly, Katara dropped her robe and followed her husband into the shower. He welcomed her with a smile. She stepped into his arms and let him pull her into a tight hug. 

“Today’s going to be hard. I’ll have to review the list of suitors from the council. They’re expecting my answer,” Katara said. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The water built a humid cloud around them. 

“What would be easier for you?” she asked. “What would make you more comfortable? Do you want to help? Do you want to meet the man? Or would you rather just… not know?” 

* * *

She was beautiful as always. Zuko never tired of looking at her; he never stopped wanting her, no matter how she changed through years. Each mark reminded him of his lovely children, and made him smile. He hoped this lucky son of a bitch appreciated her for all she was. 

Zuko pulled Katara in close, not wanting to let go. He didn’t want to give her up. His fingers curled into her wet hair, holding her head close to his chest, and just letting the water beat down against their skin. It was soothing, comforting, and Zuko let it be still as long as he could until Katara pulled reality back in, and Zuko swore he felt his heart being tugged down by the second.

The selfish part of him didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about who was touching her, who she was touching, who she was kissing, who she was holding, who she was sleeping beside. The more he thought about all the intimate details, the sicker to his stomach he felt. He still didn’t know how far Katara planned on taking it, and doubted he’d ever have the courage to ask. It’d be one thing, to fuck him and that was that– it’d be another if she took him to bed, and held him as her own. 

He figured it’d only be right of him to be there. Even if he said nothing, he felt he should be there for her. “I’ll come,” was all Zuko could whisper. All of it made him uncomfortable. All of it made him want to hide and never come out again. 

* * *

“Okay,” Katara whispered, then fell silent again. She rested in the quiet, her cheek against Zuko’s skin, and didn’t move until the staff began knocking, forcing her attention from him.

Katara finished in the shower quickly. Zuko followed suit, then they dried off and dressed up for their day. She completed her look with Ursa’s golden crown, hoping it’d somehow tie her to him. But, as they left their suite, Katara felt the rift from the night before settle between them. 

It was heavy, the weight dragging down on her heart. The chasm she had to cross just to meet her husband’s gaze was wide and deep. Every time she found his eyes, there was more sadness in them than Katara thought she could bear. She wanted to fix it, but she couldn’t. She could only go about her work and hope they’d somehow be okay in the end. Whatever end that was. 

Katara tried not to think on it. Her council was quick. A man shoved a list of names into her hands the moment she sat at her desk, and she spent half the morning skimming through it, asking questions of each. 

Sometime around noon, she snapped, “Half of these suitors are ten years younger than me.” 

“Your point?” the councilman peered over his own work at her. “It is our belief that selecting a man at the height of his… virility will increase your chances of becoming pregnant.” 

Katara had to suppress a laugh. “Because a twenty-one-year-old _boy_ understands the mechanics of conception beyond sticking it in and not pulling out?” She watched the old man blanch, then shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not meeting any of these options.” 

“My lady—” 

“Shut up!” Katara growled. “You’re already making me forsake my marriage vows. I will pick who I do such a thing with.” She leaned back in her seat, briefly glancing across the room at Zuko. He’d combed through the list, too, though his input was less helpful and more… irritable. Katara didn’t hold it against him. 

Finally, after a long pause, she said, “Kesuk. He’s high up in the guard. I know him. I trust him. Siku. He’s an adept waterbender, one of the most talented among my father’s legion of men. And, Tonraq. Have Tonraq come here. _Now!_ ” 

* * *

Zuko hated everything about this. He hated that he was sitting here, choosing the man his wife was basically going to have an affair with. It felt degrading, and he felt more disposable the more the day went on. The councilmen spoke of him, right in front of his face, as if he was nothing. They talked about their marriage like it was absolutely nothing at all. They spoke as though Katara should be rid of Zuko as easy and quickly as she’d snap her fingers. It all broke Zuko down further, and by the time Katara gave up, shouting men she’d conceived herself, Zuko felt achingly numb. 

She trusted them. What did that mean? Did she trust them the way she trusted her husband? 

“You trust them,” quoted Zuko in a bitter mumble. “That’s nice to know,” Zuko muttered beneath his breath, leaning on the desk. He realized his bitter mood and sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered. “I’m just– I’m not used to this whole idea yet. I– I’ll come to terms, Kat. I– I want to help you.”

* * *

Katara couldn’t stop the sharp look that she threw across the room. “It’s _not_ helpful of you to act as though I’m doing this on purpose. I’m not looking to wound you, Zuko. I’m simply trying to maintain control of my country.”

Her eyes flashed angrily, but Katara couldn’t hold her harsh stare for long. His apology softened her quickly, making her eyes burn with tears and her chest ache with shame. As soon as the councilman left the room to carry out her orders, Katara let her facade break.

“Am I supposed to bed someone I don’t know? Is that what you’d prefer?” She asked, fingering the list of names laying on her desk. “I could pick any of these… you can all treat me like I’m a stray bitch in heat.” Katara looked up, her cheeks wet and reddening. “I’m already little more than that. Excuse me for _deigning_ to select men who treat _dogs_ well.”

She swiped at her face irritably, then. She was tired, drained from her late night and the high-running emotions of the morning. But, Katara couldn’t collapse on herself like she wanted to, no matter the strength that clinging to Zuko slowly leeched from her limbs. She had to keep holding on to him; she had to keep him.

Katara propped her elbows on the desk and rested her face in her hands, her eyes closed. “If I have to do this, I’d rather it be with someone I have a relationship with. I’d like the reassurance that my relationship with you will be respected and my feelings will be validated. It’s not going to be easy, Zuko. This isn’t something I’m going to waltz into with a giddy grin. It’ll hurt. Both of us will hurt. It’ll—“

A sharp rap at the door interrupted her. Katara lifted her head just as the councilman returned, waving in Kesuk and Siku.

“A messenger was sent to the shipyard to collect Master Tonraq,” the councilman said. “Surely you didn’t intend that I run your errand all the way out to the bay.”

Katara stared at the man for the better half of a minute, finally blinking contemptuously and rolling her eyes. “Surely, not. That would be so presumptive of me.”

He smiled, looking like he was about to sit down, but Katara waved him out with directions to send in Tonraq whenever he arrived. In his absence, Katara greeted Kesuk and Siku warmly, shaking each man’s hand and asking them to take a seat. The office suddenly felt stifling, with two warriors perched on the edge of the sofa and Zuko beside them, looking sullen in his chair.

“How can we help you, Chieftess?” Kesuk spoke up in the tense silence, his voice light and jesting. “I trust our positions are safe?”

Katara smiled. It was easy to feel comfortable with him. Kesuk was a handsome, outgoing man, and someone she’d known since he joined the palace guard at eighteen. On the other hand, Siku was quiet, more reserved, which Katara thought either came with his age (he was ten years her senior) or his experience in the navy. In any case, both were men she trusted with her life, to honor her and understand the gravity of her situation.

“There’s no reason to be worried,” she explained. “I have… well, I have something to ask of you, something to _explore_ … it would be best if we wait until Tonraq arrives before I go into detail. Can I make you tea?”

* * *

When they were left alone, Zuko stilled, her snapping quieted him. Over the years, he’d never been afraid to argue with her. There was never a fear in his heart that an argument would be anything more than that. They’d proven that time and time again. But now– Zuko was afraid. Things felt fragile now- so quickly- and it terrified him. This ordeal had his stomach in knots and his hands shaking. His heart had never ached so badly. 

Before he could even respond, the door rapped, and Zuko took a sharp intake of breath, and held it. He turned his head sharply to meet the gaze of the men who entered. They were both good-looking men– far better looking men than he was. Subconsciously, when he was self-conscious, Zuko ran his hand down his scarred cheek. He suddenly felt like he could never measure up. He’d never compare to these men who were new and exciting, undamaged, and like portraits come to life. 

Zuko finally exhaled in a staggering breath, and he looked down at the desk in worry while the men spoke. His entire life was falling apart in front of his face. Yesterday morning, everything was the same. Everything was wonderful. He’d heard this before- anyone else would tell him this was a long-time-coming, but he never believed it. He always thought they’d have a water bender, or Katara would make some exception and they could put, at least, a non-bender on the throne. Neither- nothing- came true. 

Yesterday morning, they sipped tea by the fireplace and the window, as they did so many mornings. They tickled their children, and fed Druk, and he kissed her goodbye for the work day. Now, he was sitting by idly as his wife chose which man she wanted to not only fuck, but co-parent with– replace him with something he thought only he was reserved for such intimacy alongside. He felt a fool to think himself so special, but only yesterday, he’d bet his children’s lives that he was the love of her life— as she said so many times: her one and only love. 

He felt like another brick in the wall now. Compared to these men, he was fools’ gold, and they were twenty-four karat. She was fixing them tea, and Zuko was doing his best to suck it up as these men sat before him to steal everything out from under him. He didn’t want to hurt Katara, that was the last thing he would ever, ever want. He wanted this done and over with, but he was terrified he might lose her. What if she fell for one of these men? What if she got feelings for him? What if Zuko had to spend the rest of his days watching Katara love another? It all felt like a weird and bad dream in which he was on the outside looking in. 

“Can I have some chamomile please, _my love_ ,” Zuko asked, pulling himself from his fretting musings, and meeting the other men’s gazes– his sharp and possessive; jealous. This would not be easy. But, he had to simmer down before all he did was make this harder on her.

* * *

“Of… of course…” Katara looked over her shoulder at her husband, her eyes wide and worried as his flashed with jealousy. It wasn’t something she could address right then; Kesuk and Siku wouldn’t even understand. She hadn’t told them a thing.

She narrowed her gaze, a warning for Zuko. _Let me explain,_ her look said. _Let me tell them._ Before either warrior could guess at anything being wrong, Katara added a third tea cup to the tray.

“Of course, Zuko—“ Her voice was stronger this time, firm and confident. “—chamomile has wonderful calming properties, doesn’t it? I’ve always preferred coffee myself, but—”

“Coffee is easily the best,” Kesuk jested, then seemed to catch himself, “with all due respect, Prince Zuko, Chieftess.”

Katara shrugged, “No need. You and Siku are both welcome to speak your mind. I’d prefer it, actually…” She dropped sugar cubes into the cups of tea, then presented the tray to each of the men, lingering for a moment in front of her husband. “I want everyone to feel comfortable and secure. That would make me happiest.”

If the men hadn’t caught on before, they did then. Kesuk shifted in his seat, a glance thrown at the Fire Prince and unease settling in his posture. Siku was… more diplomatic.

He took his cup of tea, clearing his throat after a slow sip and asking, “Are you sure everything is alright, Chieftess Katara? If there is… worry within the palace, I will happily send more men to guard these halls.”

“That’s not necessary.” Katara took her own seat behind her desk, where she felt she could guard her emotions. “And, I do apologize for my silence. When Tonraq arrives, you’ll understand why I’d rather not explain things twice. I think it’d be too—“

For the second time, a sharp knock interrupted her, except this time, Katara almost breathed a sigh of relief. The door swung open and the waterbender in question poked his head through, a smile preceding the rest of him as he came into the room.

“Sorry for the delay, my Queen.” Tonraq bowed, the leather of his boots and belt creaking as his body stopped. When he stood, back to his full height, his crystal blue eyes twinkled. “Somebody— _a very useless somebody—_ wasted everyone’s time by sending a messenger to me rather than making the walk himself. I would’ve been here earlier.”

Katara shook her head, her own smile appearing as she waved his apology away. “Don’t worry. Please. And I’m tired of all this ‘ _my Queen,’ ‘my Chieftess.’”_

If it was easy to be around Keruk and Siku, being so near Tonraq was like coming up for fresh air. He was jovial, genuine, and in the time she’d spent with him in the past, Katara had never felt short of laughter or confidence. And, damn, she needed it.

She swallowed. Her voice died as she became unexpectedly nervous.

“I- um— sit, please, Tonraq.” Katara avoided the issue for a moment longer. “By Zuko. Love, make room, please.” She watched as the men shifted around. Their bodies made the room seem small. She didn’t miss the scent of sweat and testosterone rolling off the warriors. Her husband still smelled of the pine soap in their shower. _Tui and La_ , how that simple embrace they’d shared in the steam sounded leagues better than this.

Katara pulled her gaze away from Zuko, clearly her throat loudly. They were all looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Anything. _Come on_ , Katara berated herself. _Out with it._

“I have, um… there’s something I must discuss with the three of you,” she started, finding her courage somewhere deep in her blood. “First, I must insist that this discussion never leave this room. I’ve asked each of you here because I trust you. I’ve known you all for years now. You’re… important.”

Katara paused and pressed her lips together. There was no delicate way to put it, no matter how she wanted to dance around the issue. She had to face it squarely, like a queen would.

“I’ve been married for ten years. I’ve had four beautiful, bright children,” she said, “but not a single one bends water. Not a single one can be my heir. The council would have me divorce my husband, but I’ve refused, and against their desires, I would have him be privy to this conversation… to _all_ of our conversations as I decide…”

She looked down at her hands as she presented it: “It’s beyond question that I need an heir. I need a child who bends either water or nothing. _Soon_. I risk losing everything without such a child. Unfortunately— and I mean that. It’s a _great_ misfortune— Prince Zuko and I have only had firebenders, and because of this, I am required to bear the child of a waterbending man.”

* * *

Tonraq put the other men to shame, and the other men were already better than Zuko. The way he waltzed in the room, made Katara laugh and smile, and the way that both their blue eyes lit up made Zuko’s heart fall into his stomach. Their was chemistry. Already, Zuko could feel it. He knew Katara would choose him. He already knew, and he already felt like he had a good chance of losing her. He wished he wasn’t so insecure– and yesterday, if someone had asked him, he’d have told them he had full faith in their marriage. But, this talk of sleeping with another man– having a baby– parenting– all with another, had shaken Zuko to his core and rocked his foundation. 

Tonraq sat beside him, and Zuko almost laughed. He almost laughed at the sheer, sick irony of it all. He was sitting next to a man who he was almost certain would be fucking his wife. Zuko shouldn’t be sitting next to him, he should punch him. But, everything was so fucked up, and all he could do was pray to the Spirits that Katara would keep her promises. It would only be procreation, like she said, and her promises over all the years that she’d always love _him_. 

Zuko said nothing as he sat in the chair. His hands were shaking, and he felt sick to his stomach. It felt like a fucked up _game_ , and he was a meager knight pawn, and these men were the king pieces. 

Zuko was spaced out, lost in worry while he clutched his pants at the knees and his eyes glazed over. He was despondent, tuning it all out. 

The men all looked at each other in disease, unsure of what to say. Their queen just asked them to father her heir– and to take her to bed. They were quiet, and hesitant. 

“Chieftess Katara, I- I am humbled that you have considered me, but… Spirits… I don’t know…” Kesu told her. 

“I am honored as well, Chieftess, but I feel as though I should mull this over, if that is all right? I am willing to help you at any stake, though. I promised your father I’d look after you,” assured Siku. 

Tonraq looked up at Katara at worry, and to Zuko’s dazed surprise, him as well. “Katara,” he said, and Zuko noticed how this one skipped the formal address. “This is a lot, and I don’t mean for me… for you,” he spoke. “I, too, am humbled that you trust me to ask something so important of me,” he assured her, then glancing back at Zuko, and he put a friendly hand on his shoulder. 

“Prince Zuko, are you… are you all right? This must be very difficult for you… I’m sorry you are going through this… Katara is lucky to be married to such a brave man,” Tornaq spoke– and he broke through Zuko’s walls. 

Zuko inhaled sharply, only to repress the tears that now pooled even thicker in his eyes. He was shocked at the genuine kindness in his words, and that the man gave a shit about how he felt in all this. He thought no one would consider him at all. The other diplomats told Katara to literally throw him away like he was nothing. To hear this noble speak to him like he mattered– mattered to Zuko to hear. Which, in turn, frustrated him. He wanted nothing more than to have a good reason to loathe each one of them. 

“I’m– I’m fine… thank you. I– worry over Katara. She needs your help,” murmured Zuko despondently, still. 

Tonraq still frowned, giving the prince’s shoulder a squeeze before looking at Katara. “I imagine to ask this of us must have been incredibly difficult, Katara. We’re lucky to have a leader with such fortitude and courage… to put our country first… even over her family… her feelings… her marriage… we’re all truly blessed, and… if you need me, I’m at your service. You know I’d do anything for you, Tara.”

At that nickname– finally, when Zuko closed his eyes, a tear came through.

* * *

Katara frowned. It wasn’t the hesitancy from the waterbenders that upset her; rather, Tonraq’s familiarity. Maybe it was a mistake to invite him here. Maybe she should’ve kept to warriors she knew by name and face only, not a man whose body and secrets she knew. It’s been more than a decade, though…. since they’d been anything. And was she really so wrong to make her request of a man she thought of as a friend? Was she so wrong to care for her own comfort and well-being?

She regarded Tonraq quietly, her gaze skimming over his long, muscular frame up to his face. He’d added more beads to the locks of hair brushing his chin, symbols of accomplishments and esteem within the Water Tribe’s Navy. Peeking above his collar, she could make out the black swirls of tattoos. The ink was crisp against his dark skin. Slowly, Katara’s eyes wandered up to his. They were as bright and blue as ever, full of playful life and genuine affection for her.

_Tara_. Her stomach twisted. She used to love the nickname he’d given her. Now, Katara wanted Zuko and Zuko called her Kat.

She felt sick. Katara put a hand over her stomach and pulled her eyes from the waterbender, a glance stolen for her husband before she looked at Siku and Kesuk.

“Siku, if you are not comfortable, I understand. I’m not asking this lightly, and I understand your wanting to think on it,” Katara said, keeping a soft smile in place. She wanted him to know she wasn’t angered. If Siku was hesitant, she wouldn’t force him. “Go home. Give it a night. If Tonraq and Kesuk are unwilling, or if I find I’d prefer your company, I’ll send for you.”

The man stood, leaving his cup of tea and bowing graciously. “Of course, Chieftess Katara, Prince Zuko. I am at your disposal, should you ask.” Siku shook the firebender’s hand and kissed the back of Katara’s, then took his leave.

In his wake, there remained a heavy silence. No one seemed willing to break it. Kesuk looked at Tonraq who looked at Zuko who stared at her. Katara held her husband’s gaze, her eyes burning. They burned even more when she blinked, forcing away the tears that threatened.

“I believe lunch is being served,” Katara said, standing. Her voice was throaty. “Kesuk, Tonraq, I’d like for you to join Zuko and I for the meal. We can discuss this in greater depth… ask any questions of each other and get to know one another better… come along.”

* * *

It was all so peculiar– and awful. He was in a room with men who were all but applying to sleep with his wife. Zuko had to do his best to grin and bear it. All he could notice was the gaze in Tornaq’s eyes when he looked at Katara. He was a kind man, and he knew Katara. The way he looked at her and spoke of her told him that much. He worried there was a past he hadn’t known of, one that would come to haunt him now. 

Zuko met Katara’s gaze worriedly, and only broke away when she called to break for lunch. Zuko, his wife, and the two eligible men followed him to the quiet dining area. It was private, unlike the banquet hall. It was the table that he usually sat at with his children and Katara for dinner every night. Zuko wanted to make it a point that they had dinner together, as a family, every night. It was something Zuko never had growing up, and Zuko thought being together every night, at least once, was important. Katara had wholeheartedly agreed– and they had every intention of dining there tonight. 

Of course, it was only a room with a table, but to Zuko it was only for their family. These men were not family, and Zuko didn’t want to ever have to regard either of them as such. He didn’t want Katara to either. Jealousy already boiled in his veins, and he didn’t know what he’d do when she brought one of them into their room– into their bed– under their covers. 

Zuko leaned onto his hand in stress, and when a servant came around with a bottle of wine, he all but jumped to stick out his glass.


	34. Chapter 34

Perhaps this would all be easier to stomach with a drink. Katara didn’t even blink when Zuko practically leapt at the chance to fill his wine glass. She extended hers, too, then gestured at the glasses of Tonraq and Kesuk and sank down in her seat.

For a moment, there was quiet. Kesuk swirled the wine around his cup while Tonraq took a small sip. Zuko downed his in a single gulp. Katara almost made a joke about bringing out something stronger for him, whiskey perhaps, but she held her tongue. This wasn’t the time or place to chastise him. Everything he held dear was being called into question.

Katara felt as though she was losing her grip on happiness, love, and family, too, but she doubted Zuko would see it that way. She doubted he _could_ see it that way. She had two men at the table, one of which she’d bring to bed. She’d have his child, and that child would dine in this very room. A constant reminder of her—

“My Queen?” Kesuk drew her attention up from the table’s wooden grain, but Katara still stared blankly.

She couldn’t make sense of his face. It all seemed like a blur to her, a mess of colors and shapes and sounds. She swallowed. Her throat was tight. And getting tighter. Katara clutched at her neck, reminding herself— _forcing_ herself to breathe.

Someone touched her arm and she jumped, her head whipping to the right. “Katara? Are you feeling okay?” Tonraq peered at her, his lips pursed. “You look flushed… here. Drink.”

He put her wine glass in her hand, watching her until she brought it up to her lips. Katara gulped down a mouthful, hissing through her nose as the wine warmed her throat.

“Would it be easier for you, Chieftess Katara, if we all slept on it?” Kesuk asked. “Siku might’ve had a good idea, going home to think about this. It clearly is taking a toll on you.”

Katara waved him off, “I’m alright. I am. I- I just couldn’t— its not important.” She took another sip of wine, then set her glass aside. “Do you still enjoy the guard, Kesuk?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.” A genuine smile spread across his face with the focus deflected away from her. “It’s enjoyable work. I haven’t looked back since your father first employed me. The palace, the staff, you… it’s all wonderful.”

“Good. Good…” Katara made herself smile back, trying to think up another question when Tonraq interrupted.

“Would the father be asked to move into the palace, Chieftess? Would he work in the palace?”

She nodded. Her gaze briefly flicked to Zuko before she answered. “That’s how I picture an ideal situation… for the child, at least. It has to remain a secret outside these walls, for the purpose of the treaty, but I won’t have any secrets within my family, once they’re all old enough to know…”

“You can’t ask a father to step out of his child’s life entirely,” Tonraq finished.

“Yes, and that’s the other option. People will start to ask questions or point to infidelity if a man is constantly coming and going from the palace, especially if those visits involve visiting the child,” Katara repeated the council’s words. “We can’t raise any suspicion of instability surrounding the treaty… and, I also can’t put a firebender on the Water Tribe’s throne, not in this day and age.”

Katara sighed then, leaning forward with her chin in her hand. She closed her eyes, trying to find anything more reassuring to say. She felt she was barely holding herself together, much less her country.

“So, we would— well, one of us,” Kesuk gestured between himself and Tonraq. “One of us would, essentially, be living within the place like… like a concubine.”

* * *

Zuko felt the wine hit his head as soon as he downed it, but quickly gestured the servant over to refill his cup. Maybe drinking his way through this would be the only way he’d make it out alive. Every conversation felt like someone was stabbing his heart, but it just refused to die. He was bleeding out with no tourniquet, and no relief of death, either. 

Zuko leaned his head into his hand over the table, listening to everything, but he couldn’t be a part of this conversation. He couldn’t stand to look at any of them right now. He began to grow angrier and angrier the more they went on about the treaty, like it was nothing to disregard it. His uncle signed him over here with the sole intent of producing an heir for the Southern Tribe. A water bender was in line for the Fire Nation throne– Lu Ten and Yue’s child. It couldn’t be so in the South, apparently. His entire family had to be butchered– he wondered if his uncle would be ashamed. He couldn’t even do the one task he was sent away for. How useless. Not that he could ever even confide in the man. He was left to let this eat his soul alive on his own. 

Kesuk said they’d be _concubines_ , and Zuko scoffed. At this point he was on drink three, and clearly was not entirely sober. Concubines implied they’d be having sex for fun– and for good. Katara _promised_ him it was only procreative. Zuko wanted to scream. And, anger was coursing through him the more they went on about disregarding the treaty. His uncle upheld it with his life, as did the North. The Earth Kingdom, too, even cooperated now. A noble from the Fire Nation was sent to them in place of Azula, and things quieted. But, the South could do what they wanted– fuck the treaty, they had to have a water bender. Fuck, his family, his marriage, his life… they had to have a water bender. 

Zuko didn’t know how much more his heart could bear. He downed the remainder of his third glass of wine, and again beckoned the servant over who looked hesitant, and glanced over to Katara, almost seeking permission. “I can drink what I like,” grumbled Zuko, “I want the red,” he added, “Please,” Zuko said, tapping his fingers on the table in anxiety, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to keep this charade up for the rest of his life.

* * *

“You _can_ drink whatever you like,” Katara said. She looked across the table at him, aghast. Her cheeks reddened as she assessed him.

He was drunk, and obviously so. They’d been sitting here less than twenty minutes and he was fucking drunk. She met his glare, barely holding the reigns on her temper. It was with unrestrained irritation that she snapped, “In the presence of your own company.”

“Please, Prince Zuko.” Katara stood up, making it clear that she meant to dismiss him. She was shaking. Her legs trembled with her weight, with embarrassment and the exertion it took to simply stand there and keep from running out of the room.

Her marriage couldn’t fall apart, not here, not in front of her guests, not when she’d just entrusted her husband with her entire heart and the warriors with her secrets. _Not ever_. Zuko promised. Zuko promised they’d be okay. He promised he’d be there, support her, love her, _be hers_ —

Katara felt like he was going back on it now, downing wine until he was in a stupor, looking at her like he hated her. She swallowed a lump in her throat and gestured at the door. “ _Excuse yourself_ , husband. Please, before this becomes something you regret.”

 

* * *

Zuko was in shock. Even intoxicated he gently placed down the glass, and his eyes widened in surprise, and then he glanced away in deep hurt. The whole room was quiet, and his head was already throbbing because he’d downed those glasses in minutes like they were shots. 

With her words he wanted to down another three. “ _Katara_ ,” Zuko spoke seriously, even in his stupor, but she stood firmly. A guard came up to him then, following orders of his queen. He took him by the arm, and Zuko shoved him off in irritation, shaking his head as he looked at his wife. His eyes were pooling with upset, drunken tears, but the pain would leak through drunk or sober. 

“You _can’t– **please**_ ,” Zuko choked out, his lip quivering and his face coiled in shocked pain, then as he sat their defiantly. “You _can’t_ do that,” he muttered, the tears falling over, thick and fat and heartbroken. 

She still said nothing, and a guard yanked him up, another helping escort him. “Something I regret? _Me_?” Zuko choked out, shaking his head as he fumbled in his step, and the men held him up. “I’m in a room while you pick a man to— to— all but… what? Basically _cheat_ on me with– and- and start some… some _new family_ with!” Zuko cried, tears falling from his eyes. 

“We’re here, at _our_ dinner table! The fucking dinner table our family has eaten off of together for _years_! Our children!” Zuko cried, “And, these _strangers_ are here while… while you… you weed out which one would be best to bring into _our_ bed– the one we’ve shared for ten years! And, your council wants to throw me out like I’m a used handkerchief you already blew your nose in!” Zuko sobbed drunkenly, shaking his head. 

“And… fuck… fuck, I know you don’t mean it. I know the… the fucking tribe and their fucking water bender obsession,” Zuko muttered, shaking his head. “And, I want to be so, so angry at you, but I’m not!” he cried. “I’m just upset, and I don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, watching his tears drip off his face in a way he’d never allow himself sober- in a way the sober version of himself would be humiliated by that he looked so pitiful in front of his de facto replacements. 

They were better than him, and he was proving it. 

“So yes… excuse me, throw me away in favor of your new man, it seems quite fitting we both get used to that anyway,” Zuko choked out. “I _love_ you,” Zuko cried. “I love you… I love you… I love you _so much_ ,” Zuko repeated as more tears rivered from his eyes as he was inebriated, stumbling forward until he bumped into the table and steadied himself. 

“Excuse me… I’m sorry if downing a few glasses of _wine_ is easier than downing all of _this_ that I just got smacked upside the head with yesterday.”

* * *

Katara gasped. His words sank into her like a knife. No, _worse._ She felt like a spear had gone through her again, pinned her to the ground. She felt like her blood was slowly draining away, like her heart was straining to keep oxygen flowing to brain. She saw stars around Zuko’s head. 

“That’s not fair, Zuko!” Her silence broke. “None of this is—” Then, her voice broke, too. “Y-you know you’re not being—” Katara fought to keep her composure, but it was growing impossible. 

Her throat was closing around a lump of tears. Her eyes burned as she blinked. Her cheeks ached with barely restrained sobs. She wanted to scream. She wanted to break down and cry right there, bent over the table with her head buried in her arms, but she couldn’t. 

She was a leader, right? She was a chief, a queen. She had to set an example of poise and decorum. She had to prove she could handle this so her people and her husband would trust her. 

Katara swallowed, keeping her voice level and calm. “Get him out,” she murmured to the guard. “Just get him out.”  

Of course, that only made Zuko angrier. He jerked within the guard’s grasp, a deep scowl set upon his brow, and stumbled forward. His eyes were harsh; his look, accusatory. 

For a split second, Katara feared the cruel comments bound to leap off his tongue— what would he call her? a slut? a whore? an adulteress? He looked like he wanted to. He looked like he hated her. _It was all over_. Her stomach sank with the thought. Her marriage was over. She’d sacrificed it for her country and suddenly, Katara couldn't decide if it was worth it. She visibly shook and tears slipped down her cheeks. 

But, before Zuko could get any closer, Tonraq jumped up from his seat, his hands spread before him.  _“Hey…”_

“Hey, hey— Prince Zuko.” Tonraq licked his lips and stepped around his chair, coming between Zuko and Katara. “Look, I don’t want to put my hands on you, but I will if you get any closer to her, looking like that…” 

Tonraq lowered his hands, trying to de-escalate the situation. “She doesn’t want to do this. No one wants to do this. But, if you can’t… if you refuse to see that… You need to— you have to relax. Come on, sir… Prince. Let’s go. You need a walk.” 

* * *

Zuko was furious as Tonraq stepped in like he was any authority. Maybe he would become so. But, he stepped in between them like Katara was _his_. Zuko hated seeing her cry, and knowing he caused it, but he was falling apart, and she was throwing him out. She was keeping these men in, and throwing him, her husband, out. Zuko wanted to vanish- it’d be so much easier than facing all of this.

He looked at Tonraq as if the man was insane. Fat tears continued to roll off his cheek. “What are you _talking_ about?” Zuko slurred drunkenly. “You think I’d lay a hand on my _wife_? Is _that_ what you think?” Zuko said between hiccups. He shook his head, using the table to balance himself. “No matter how angry, drunk, or upset I am— I would _never_ , **_ever_** lay a _finger_ on her,” snapped Zuko. “Who are you to imply I’d touch Kat?” Cried Zuko. “—Like some knight in shining armor!”

“You’re not married, you don’t understand. You don’t have any children- you don’t know,” Zuko told him.

“But, go ‘head! Punch me!” Zuko stated, pointing to his scarred cheek, “do it— it’ll hurt far less than what you came in here to do,” Zuko Spat. “You— You think I can go for a walk… like this? I’ll be face-first in the garden within a few steps! But, I’ll go! I’ll get out… that’s what Katara wants.”

* * *

Tonraq huffed in disbelief. “I’m not hitting you. I don’t want to hit you.” His breath escaped in another sigh and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, truthfully, I am sorry for both of you, but—”

“You need to leave, Prince Zuko. No one is hitting you, no one is attacking you, but you need to go.” Kesuk spoke up now, standing and placing a hand on Tonraq’s shoulder. “Your wife didn’t force you to drink so much so quickly, but she is asking you to leave. So, with all due respect…” 

“There’s no respect due,” Katara growled under her breath.  She was embarrassed now, and angry beyond belief. To think she’d trusted him with this…

She stepped around the men and grabbed Zuko by the arm. He was belligerent, his breath stunk of alcohol, but Katara managed to pull him from the dining room into the hall. She hissed up at him. “I didn’t have to tell you about this. I didn’t have to _include_ you in this.” 

“The way you are speaking to me,” She pointed at the closed doors, then pushed her finger into his chest. “The way you spoke to me implied that I’m some kind of adulteress slut. The way you looked at me, like I’m dirty, like _I_ should be ashamed…” 

She shook her head. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, dripping from her chin to splatter the floor. Katara looked down. Her voice softened, broken. “I love you, Zuko. I love you so much it kills me, and I have to be honest with you.” 

“I married you because of a treaty. I married you because my father asked me to, because he said it was what the world needed and what our tribe needed. He was right… we’ve had a decade of peace. My people are flourishing,” Katara emphasized.  

She flattened her hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. “I might not have chosen it, but marrying you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I have four _beautiful_ children. I have laughter and joy, in spite of all the tragedy I’ve faced. I have you… I have… this love that’s deeper than anything I’ve ever known.” 

“But, right now,” Katara looked up at him for a long moment. She reached up, placed her hands on either side of his face, and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks. “Right now… I’m doubting you. I’m doubting how well you really know me, how much you could possibly love me… because, if you did, if you know me like I think you do, you’d understand that for as much as I love you, I love my people, too.” 

“I have a duty to them, as their Chief. I have a legacy to uphold. I will lose it all if I don’t do this. These people, every one of them, will be exposed to the risk of another war and leadership that doesn’t know them.” Katara pulled her hands away from Zuko’s face and turned her back on him. “I am unwilling to risk that, Zuko, and I’m sorry.” 

* * *

Zuko hated both of the men in that moment. He hated how they spoke down to him like he was a child. They spoke as Katara was theirs to defend, and he was against her. He was her husband. How dare they? They so fervently rallied to get rid of him, but what hurt him the most was his wife’s agreement with them. She cut him down in front of them, and when she pulled him out into the hall, he stumbled, and held his head, wanting to vanish. 

When she told him that he should be grateful to be included, that Katara was only doing it as a courtesy, Zuko gasped. That felt like a knife lunged into his chest. The alternative would be a literal affair. He felt small then. He didn’t feel like an equal and Zuko hiccuped before taking a long and deep breath to steady his emotions while a lump built in the back of his throat. 

But, when she spoke, he softened, and shook his head. “Kat… I don’t think that,” he told her sincerely. “I would never think those things about you,” he tried to assure her through his hiccuping, but listened as she went on. By the time she was done speaking, he was riddled to tears and full of guilt. 

Zuko stumbled to face her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Kat…” Zuko muttered. “It was so hard,” he admitted. “This morning– I- I _knew_ it’d be hard,” he stated, shaking his head while more tears fell. “But, I didn’t– I didn’t know _how_ hard… _how_ bad it was gonna hurt,” he stated. “Seeing the men, and… and Tornaq especially… the way he _looks_ at you, and says _your name_ … and I was afraid,” he admitted. “I was so jealous, and upset… and they’re all _so much_ **better** than I am… and knowing all of this, and that you’re going to be _with_ them– and we were sitting at the table where _we_ sit together all the time with _our_ kids, and it _hurt_ ,” Zuko choked out. “It all hurt _so much_ ,” he whispered. “And, I realized you were _choosing_ one of them… and _I_ was never even your choice.”

He looked down, seeing his own tears hit the floor as he squeezed her shoulders as though letting go meant she’d slip away from him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to,” he spoke between hiccups, his words slurred in between and his head was light. Zuko wiped his face with his sleeve. “I love you,” he told her. “I still mean what I said,” he promised. “I want to help. I want to help you,” he choked out. “Agni, Kat, please don’t shut me out. I don’t know what I’ll _do_.”

* * *

“I don’t want to shut you out, Zuko, but I need to feel respected.” Katara turned around to look at him, breaking free of his grasp as she did. “I don’t feel like you respect me right now. I don’t feel like you even understand me or my decisions…”

She shook her head slowly, her expression perplexed. She didn’t know how much of what she told him would sink in, but she had to try. Katara didn’t want this fighting between them. She wanted them to be a unit; that’s what she _needed._

So, she lowered her voice, doing her best to keep any emotion from it. “The council can, and _will,_ remove me from power, Zuko.” 

“They’ll place someone from the North in charge, or someone who doesn’t represent everyone equally. They’ll jeopardize the treaty, as the treaty was with _me_ , with my family and my bloodline,” she explained. “I know you see this is a breach, but it’s not. I’m giving the council what they want: a waterbender within my lineage.” 

“In turn, I’m protecting the peace we’ve made around the world. I’m protecting my kids!” Katara urged, finally letting something desperate and strained leak into her tone. it wasn’t as though she could help it. Flashes of violence and bloody memories clogged her brain.

Katara bit her lip and looked at her husband, tears falling freely with unrealized, but tangible pain. “Do you not remember what they tried to do to you, simply because of where you come from? Can you imagine if I let Hakoda take the throne? They’d kill him! They’d _murder my son!”_

A sob broke in her throat. Katara covered her mouth with a hand, trying to keep the loud, keening sound private. Zuko noticed, of course, but Katara didn’t allow herself any comfort from him. She was angry, justifiably so or not. She lashed out. 

“I’m sorry the Southern Water Tribe isn’t as advanced or as accepting as your precious Fire Nation, but I can’t seem to recall a waterbender assassinating Fire Lord Iroh! I’m only trying to do what’s best for my people, my children, and you!” Katara shouted, then a heavy silence fell. 

She stared at her husband through her tears, wishing she could wrap herself up in him instead of scream. All Katara wanted was him, his comfort and warmth enveloping her, his lips and hands caressing her. 

But, she couldn’t have it. Katara wiped her face and walked away. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you so greatly. The least I can do is not fail my people, too.” 

* * *

“ _Katara_!” exclaimed Zuko, every word feeling like another slap across the face. He couldn’t bear anymore– mostly, he couldn’t bear it when she cried. He tried desperately to comfort her, but she didn’t want it- or him. Still, he put his hands on her arms, trying to reassure her. 

Tears leaked through as she stuck him with her father’s assassination, and the harsh reminder of the men who’d attacked him years ago. She spoke of his sister’s barbarity, but then spoke of her own tribe’s as well. He didn’t want this to be a them vs. us situation, and he knew Katara didn’t either. They were both upset– and tired. He just wanted it all to end. He wanted to go back to the way things were last week and erase all of this. It was like living through hell. 

What scared him the most was what Katara said about Hakoda. It gripped him by the heart like a vice, even in his stupor, and it made him quieter. Did he have a reason to worry for his children? “You haven’t failed me, Kat, Agni,” Zuko choked out. “I won’t let anyone hurt our children,” Zuko whispered, another tear escaping him despite himself. “I don’t— I’m just… this really, _really_ hurts,” Zuko tried to explain. “I don’t mean to make this harder,” Zuko whispered, meeting her gaze with pained sincerity. “I want the opposite. I want to help,” assured Zuko before pursing his lips to fight tears.

“This is really new to me… all of _this_ … I’m _trying_ to understand better, and accept this, and… I… I should be more patient because it’s not your doing, either, and I- I know it’s all… confusing for you too,” Zuko spoke, his lip trembling as he tried hard not to break again. 

“I promise I’m going to help you. I won’t– I won’t freak out again. I’m sorry,” Zuko said, almost desperate, fear in his inflection. “Please forgive me.”

* * *

Katara softened, and she came back to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Always,” she whispered, burying her nose in his skin. “I’ll always forgive you, Zuko. I love you.” 

She pulled back, resting her hands on his biceps. A part of her worried over breaking away completely, like doing so would allow the return of their rift. It’d likely always be there now, the urge to put space between his heart and hers, lingering like a wolf stalking its prey. Of course, if Zuko wanted the space, she’d give it to him. 

Fear reared its ugly head. Despite their new proximity, Katara still felt the swelling panic that he’d give up on her, on _them._ Her grip on his arms tightened. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Katara said. “I can’t lose you because of this, Zuko. Please. Promise me. You’re my one and only and _I’ll break.”_

She leaned forward, resting her cheek on his chest. He wobbled slightly because of the alcohol, but he wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t recognize her need to be held by him. Zuko tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arms around her. His hands flattened on her back, fingertips digging into her skin. 

For a while, they simply stood there. Katara spent the time wishing she could be someone else. If she was a peasant girl from one of the smaller tribes, she wouldn’t be forced into this. But, she wouldn’t have Zuko either, and for that, Katara decided that maybe this was all worth it. She’d be strong enough for both of them, if she had to be.

Lifting her head, Katar wiped the remnants of tears from her cheeks and gave Zuko a small, sad smile. “I should go back,” she murmured. “You don’t have to… it might actually be better if you went for a walk or laid down for a bit. I can find you after…” 

* * *

Zuko lingered in her arms, holding her close with affection. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want her to go back yet– he didn’t want to go back in there with those men who vied to sleep with his wife. He just wanted Katara, and he held her same fears. That reassured him in a way. He didn’t want his wife to have any doubts, but the fact that _she_ was worried to lose _him_ made him feel more assured they could muddle through this. 

His deepest fear was her bonding with the chosen man. What if everything spiraled out of control, and she grew feelings for him amidst this whole ordeal? Then, they’d raise a child together– and Zuko would be pushed to the background. He tried to reassure himself through Katara’s words, actions, and everything he knew of her through the years that that would not happen. She loved him.

Zuko cupped her cheeks, his eyes still watering. “You won’t lose me, I promise,” Zuko whispered. “I _love_ you. You and the children are my _entire world_ , okay?” he reassured her. “You could never lose me, so long as you want me, for the rest of our lives,” Zuko stated firmly, his eyes watering as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, unwilling to let go, or go away to reface all of this.

The prince leaned in and kissed Katara deeply, realizing it would be best to take her advice, no matter how much he didn’t want to.  “I _**trust**_ you, Katara,” Zuko whispered to her, meeting her gaze. He hoped she knew how much that meant, how hard it was in this situation to trust, but she’d proved he could trust her with every piece of him the last ten years. And he did, he did trust her. He had his doubts that haunted him, but he trusted her not to break his heart. He trusted her to keep her promise that this was solely procreative, and forced at the hands of the council’s expectations of an heir. He trusted her not to take it any further– to still honor every aspect of their vows. 

“Please come to me after,” he whispered, pecking her forehead one last time before he finally let her go. He stumbled back up the stairs, his heart still feeling like it weighed twelve tons. It felt lonely and cold in the bedroom as he fell to their bed. Zuko’s hands tangled in the blankets, and the pillows were soon quietly dampened as he thought of Tornaq lying in this bed and stroking the hair from Katara’s face. 

Despite it all, Zuko still managed to drift off– sleeping off the alcohol. When he awoke, his head ached, but he was still determined to do something nice for Katara to make it up to her. Now sober, he was ruminating on how humiliated he was by his actions. He’d made a fool of himself in front of those men, particularly Tornaq, who Zuko felt had something for Katara, and they both were far better than Zuko could ever hope of being. 

Zuko fixed up the little table by the window they always sat at, got fire lilies from the greenhouse, and put them in vases by the table. He set the fire, and got a bottle of wine from Ba Sing Se and left it out. He hoped they’d still be eating together– with the children, and afterwards, if she wasn’t too exhausted, she could come back up here– and he could make it up to her.


	35. Chapter 35

Katara took a few minutes to compose herself before returning to the dining room. With Zuko absent, the air was less stifling, but she still faced a certain degree of tension. Tonraq and Kesuk wore solemn expressions as they waited for her. Their eyes tracked her path to her seat, and when she took it, Tonraq was the first to speak. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

She glanced at him, biting her lip. “No.” 

It likely wasn’t what he wanted to hear. This would all be simpler if she were comfortable, if she could separate this from the impact it would have on her marriage. But, Katara saw no point in being dishonest. One of these men would see every part of her, the physical and the emotional. She’d be stripped bare, made raw and vulnerable…

She never thought she’d have to share those pieces of her soul with any man aside from her husband. Katara sucked in a sharp breath, held it.

Tonraq touched her hand. “Is there anything we can do?”

“No.” Katara exhaled and pulled her hand beyond his reach. “You’ve done enough.” 

“What if…” Kesuk spoke up, curious, yet careful. “I mean, if I may be so bold, have you and Prince Zuko talked about trying again? Maybe if you gave it one more chance…”

“And then what?” she challenged. “The baby could be five before he starts bending, and if it’s fire, I’ll be back in this exact position. Only, I run the risk of being too old for a _sixth_ pregnancy.”

Katara felt tears rising up, again. As much as she didn’t want to cry in front of these two men, her emotions were caught in a vortex. She couldn’t get a handle on them. 

She leaned forward and dropped her face into her hands. “It gets harder on my body every time. I don’t even want a fifth pregnancy. It’s… _exhausting._  There’s been this constant state of hoping, _wishing_ for a waterbender. Every time we tried to get pregnant, it’d leak into my thoughts: This one will be it. This’ll be the baby we need. And that’s piled on top of the bloating and backaches and labor.” 

“ _La.”_ Katara cursed and lifted her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rant. That’s not why you’re here.” 

“Don’t apologize, Chieftess. You have a great weight on your shoulders. You’re simply trying to make everyone happy, keep the peace within the tribe and around the world. It doesn’t help that—” 

Tonraq cut Kesuk off “—It doesn’t help that your husband is giving you grief for this.” 

“Don’t.” Katara’s snapped to him. “Don’t go there. You don’t get to comment on my husband’s behavior. He might’ve been drunk and rash, but he wasn’t wrong when he said you are not married and you do not have children; you can’t fathom what this is like.”

Tonraq bowed his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Katara,” he murmured. “I just don’t like seeing you so upset… If stepping in was _over_ stepping, I apologize.” 

He looked up, pursing his lips in the following silence. Katara eventually nodded, accepting his apology with grace. Tonraq almost visibly relaxed. However, Kesuk seemed to grow in his unease. He shifted in his seat, vying for Katara’s attention.

“This is, _um…_ ” Kesuk puffed his cheeks with a long, loud breath. “I’m not sure I can do this, Chieftess. I’ve served your family since I turned eighteen. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life in this palace,” he explained. “I love you and care for you, _as my leader,_ and I respect your husband. I don’t want to overstep. I don’t want to hurt you. I feel I would be remiss in my duties to you and to him if I were the man to help you with this. I cannot serve and protect if I feel I’m damaging your marriage.”

Katara sighed, “I understand, Kesuk. I do appreciate your time.” 

“If Tonraq is not up to the task either, I can offer some recommendations from among the guard, Chieftess. All you need to do is ask.”  

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Siku promised himself should both of you back out.” She smiled courteously, and Kesuk bowed before leaving to resume his duties. 

When the door swung shut, Katara looked at the remaining waterbender. “You know you’re here because I’d prefer you over anyone else, Tonraq.” 

“We were close. Once,” she said. “I really believe I’d have an easier time going through with this if it’s with a man I know, a man I trust. If you’d rather remove yourself, I can ask Siku, but I want you to consider this. Please.”

///////

It was late in the evening when Katara finished up in the dining room. She talked through every outcome, every possibility with Tonraq before dismissing him. She didn’t know his decision yet, but she’d made hers. It was only a matter of telling her husband.

She wandered up the stairs to her bedroom, where she found him reading by the window. 

“Hey,” Katara murmured, smiling when Zuko looked up. She worried she looked as haggard as she felt, and fussed over her hair. “How are you? Where are the kids?” 

* * *

 Zuko was half-asleep as he read a book. He’d already had dinner, and it was already almost time for Zuko to go to bed. He always liked to clock out early for the night, and his body was urging him to do so. But, he wanted to wait up for Katara.

When his wife entered the room, Zuko smiled, and set his book down. “I’m okay,” Zuko whispered, and he assumed he was– okay– at least. He wasn’t good, he was teetering on bad, but hanging in there. He was okay. Maybe, for now, that’d _be_ okay.

Zuko walked over to Katara and cupped her cheek, stroking it with her thumb as he deliberately kept her gaze. Her eyes were ever the same. The past ten years, they’d never wavered in their loving look or kindness. They’d been through hell and back together, and everything in between, and there was no one else he’d rather have done that with– no one else he looked forward to continuing that with. He smiled at her, a real smile that met his eyes, as he soaked that all in– took the time to soak her in. “I love you,” murmured Zuko as his thumb affectionately grazed over her lips, a faint glow of tears filming over his amber eyes. 

“It’s ten o’clock, love… the children went off to sleep after dinner downtown at the Silver Salmon; I tucked them in,” he assured her. He smirked a little, “You look as though you need to be tucked in yourself,” he teased. “Did… did everything go okay? Okay as it can?” he asked. “You look exhausted, Kat. You should come on to bed,” he urged her. 

Zuko moved his other hand gently over her neck. “I’m sorry about the way I acted today, Katara,” apologized Zuko sincerely, then swallowing thickly to find the courage to continue. “I was… I was hurt, and… and having a hard time dealing with it, and I didn’t want to make it harder on you by telling you that, but I made it worse, and that’s no excuse,” he explained. “So, I’m sorry… I embarrassed myself… and worse, I humiliated you… and you trusted me to be mature about everything, and I let you down,” Zuko whispered, his eyes flickering in the glow of the fireplace’s light. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

* * *

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Katara rubbed her face, then gently rested her hand over his on her neck. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, offering an affectionate squeeze. “I should’ve been… more discerning. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I thought it would be best. I wanted to keep you involved, but maybe if  just _tell_ you things…” 

Her eyes searched Zuko’s face for a moment, but before either could say any more, Katara leaned in and kissed him. It was like their kiss in the hall: deep and affectionate. She ran her hands through his hair and pressed close, savoring the delicate way his lips melted against hers. A part of her wished for more, for his body to be melting with hers, but Katara didn’t know if he’d accept any further advances.

She sighed as she pulled back, keeping her fingers interlocked behind Zuko’s head. “I should’ve finished up sooner, too. I hope the kids didn’t miss me much… though, I certainly missed them.” 

Katara looked longingly at the door, wondering for a long, quiet moment if she’d be able to get Iroh back to sleep should she go wake him. She pursed her lips, deciding to let the toddler be. All the kids needed their sleep, and she needed the quality time with her husband. 

“I know today was hard for you,” she whispered, turning back to Zuko. “It was hard for me, too, but I hope you know that I’m not angry at you for being upset or drinking too much wine.” Katara chuckled and pecked his nose so he’d know she was teasing. “This will require some adjustment, and I made Tonraq aware of that. I might not be able to have a waterbender with you, but I have the most beautiful life with you… Don’t forget that I love you, Zuko, with everything in me.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled at her, feeling a bit better by her reassurances of love and affection. He really did trust her not to hurt him, and he forced himself to ignore the doubting, nagging voices in his head that tried to convince him of otherwise. He moved his hand down to her waist, resting it there with a squeeze, his smile remaining, but his eyes saddened when it dawned on him…

“ _Tonraq_ …” Zuko uttered, “He– He agreed?” asked Zuko, taking a deep breath. “You’ve… you’ve chosen Tonraq?” Zuko seemed clarification. His stomach sunk with dread, even though he knew from the moment he walked in– dashing and confident, flirtatious and caring– that Katara would want him. He didn’t blame her. She’d said when she was younger, she enjoyed one-night-stands, but this was different, too, and she was older, and had been married to the same man now ten years. This couldn’t be forgotten as sex for fun, either. They had to raise a child together. This man would, essentially, be in it for the long haul. He understood why Katara wanted a man she was comfortable with… a man she had a history with, even… a man she had chemistry with… a man who looked at her like he loved her, and who probably did. 

It made him nervous, even more nervous, to know she’d be sleeping with a man who was in love with her. It made everything more dangerous, more tempting, and Tonraq, even without loving her, was better than him. On top of it, now, he loved her. Zuko could see it. And, he hated to think about it, but this whole thing was basically a loveless marriage, or so Zuko could hope. It was still what everyone likely expected their marriage to be: just for children, procreative, working together to raise a child and living together for the rest of their lives. Katara was marrying this man in all but name, and it made Zuko feel sick. So he refused to let himself think about it that way.

He didn’t want Katara to think he was mad or upset with her, so he tried to push it away. He cupped her cheeks again, and shook his head. “Why don’t you get your pajamas on and rest?” suggested Zuko. “I- I left out some wine on the table, but I can make some of my uncle’s blend of tea, if you’d like? Or we can just go to bed now. You look so _tired_ , my love.”

* * *

She turned her eyes down, something akin to shame leaking across her face. Even with Zuko cupping her cheeks, trying to coax her into bed with promises of wine and tea, Katara didn’t look up. She fidgeted, then pulled her chin from his grasp. 

“I’m sorry…” she started, though she didn’t quite know where to finished. What did she say? What did she tell him? Katara wondered again if she’d made a mistake.

“I— I can have the council pick. He hasn’t… well, he hasn’t exactly said yes, just that he’d think about it tonight and let me know tomorrow. Kesuk kind of backed out after you left, but if— I—” 

She felt the panic in the back of her throat, creeping up, tightening around her already short, tense breaths. 

Katara clutched her neck, mentally reminding her lungs how to work. Her words came out with a gasp. “I’ll have the council pick. They had that list… it can— I can be… blindfolded, too,” she offered. “I won’t even know who it is, and if a pregnancy doesn’t stick, the next time, it can be someone else.” 

“You won’t have to worry. _At all.”_ Katara reached and grabbed his arm, hoping that would somehow ground her. Everything around her was reeling, spinning. She felt short on air. 

She stood up suddenly, thinking that walking around, walking it off, would help. Maybe she just needed to move, do something to pull her mind away from the issue at hand. 

“I don’t want… I don’t…” Katara rambled, then stumbled forward and grabbed the wall. 

It didn’t matter who the man was, did it? She shouldn’t care If Zuko was uncomfortable with Tonraq, she’d make the whole process random. She’d never have to know the father. She’d be used… just like _a dog._

Her stomach twisted at the thought. Whatever she’d done in the past with the men she brought home for a night, it’d never been so clinical… though katara doubted Zuko would see it that. _They were all one-night stands, weren’t they? There was no connection, right?_  

She imaged his voice cracking, his eyes welling with sincere concern. As clear as day, Katara’s brain conjured up the way he’d looked at her when he found out she wasn’t a virgin, like it was somehow the worst thing she could’ve done to him.

Katara pushed off the wall, standing on wobbling feet. “Excuse me,” she murmured, before disappearing into the washroom.

* * *

Zuko shook his head, concerned when she trailed away, mumbling about getting a stranger. “Kat,” Zuko stated, gently taking her wrist, trying to speak to her. “Katara, that– that’s silly, please,” he tried to speak to her, shaking her head. “This… this is going to hurt both of us no matter what…” he told her. “I don’t want it to be _worse_ for you,” he tried to reason with her. 

Knowing she had a connection to Tornaq hurt him, it scared him, but he didn’t want Katara uncomfortable– upset. She was the one having sex with the man. He didn’t want her lying there upset over it, or scared. The thought upset him more than anything else. 

She ran off to their washroom, and Zuko frowned deeply. “Katara,” Zuko said on the other end of the door, knocking there. “Katara, please… If… if you’re most comfortable with Tonraq, then– then you should choose him,” Zuko tried to comfort her. “Katara, it doesn’t matter who it is… I’m… it’s going to hurt me, no matter what, and I know you– you don’t want this either, but I don’t want it to be even more upsetting with some man you don’t trust… it- it isn’t just sex, you’re trying for _a baby_ ,” Zuko spoke, letting out a shaky breath. That was what made it hurt worse than if she’d simply had a steamy affair. But, he didn’t want to vocalize that much. She didn’t need to hear that right now. 

“I want you to feel safe and comfortable, Katara. I never want you to be afraid or upset,” he tried to explain. “Kat, please, love… it’ll be okay. We’ll get through this, I promise,” he spoke through the door, leaning his head against it. His fingers curled over the knob, but didn’t turn, and his eyes fell shut, surrendering tears slipping free. He took another breath to try to recollect himself enough to sound strong– to hide it. 

“I love you, Kat… we’ve been through a lot of fucking hell over the years,” Zuko said with a chuckle. “We can climb this mountain too, okay? Together,” he assured her. “I’d never go anyway– not in a million years. There is only one thing in the entire world that’d make me leave, and that’s if you told me to,” he whispered. “There is nothing that would make me choose to go on my own. I love you too much,” Zuko said from behind the door. “I’m going to be here– right here, and… and here for you through this, whenever- however you need me, okay? I don’t want to make this hurt you worse– I want to help so it hurts as less as possible. Please let me help.”

* * *

Katara didn’t do anything in the bathroom beside sit on the cool floor with her back against the door. She needed the air, the solitude; she was afraid her husband would see her break. But, he already knew. He knew her inside and out. 

She rested her head on the wood behind her, listening to the gentle rasp in his voice, the yearning to be near and help her. Katara memorized the way he sounded and made a promise: Zuko was the one she’d think of. No matter who took part in the child-bearing arrangement, he’d be the one in her thoughts. 

As if he was in the room with her, Katara felt her heart slow and her breathing calm down. She flattened her palms on the tiled floor and pushed up, opening the door with a forlorn look. 

“I’m tired of climbing mountains,” she admitted. “I’m so tired of being strong.” 

Katara stood there for a moment, clutching the door and looking up at him, then she couldn’t bear the distance. She rushed into his arms, her own wrapping around his waist. 

“I’ll climb them all, though,” Katara said. She buried her face in his chest, letting his pajama shirt catch her tears. “As long as I get to keep you.” 

* * *

Zuko relaxed against her when she leapt into his arms. He let out a shaky breath, and pulled Katara in close. “Oh, Kat,” Zuko whispered, pressing his cheek to the top of her head, one hand rested on her back, and the other on the back of her head, holding her close to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, doing his best to console her. 

“I’m tired too,” he admitted, “But, we’re young yet, and I imagine there’s many ahead of us,” Zuko said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head. “I can’t promise it won’t suck,” Zuko teased, “But, I can promise I’ll be here– and you never have to worry about losing me,” he reassured her. 

Zuko pulled back, rubbing his hands up and down her forearms, and leaving in to kiss away her tears. “Now, come on to bed, my love,” he urged her. “You’ve had a long day, Kat, come on,” he further coaxed, taking her by the hands and tugging her towards their bed and unraveled the covers for them to get under. “We’ve both worried enough for today– I think we can save the rest of our worrying for the days ahead. You need to _rest_.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

The following morning started as always. Katara woke up to feel of Zuko’s lips on her neck and the sun stretching across the bed. They took a handful of minutes to bask in each other’s warmth, kissing and touching and loving each other.

Soon enough, the kids came bounding in. They jumped onto the bed, stealing away the silent, private moments and interrupting their parents’ embrace with peals of laughter. Having missed them the night before, Katara didn’t mind. She even smiled, despite the weight bearing down on her soul.

Eventually, however, Katara had to leave her bed, get ready for her day, and make her way down to her office. When she arrived, Tonraq was sitting inside, his lap full of flowers. 

“I, _uh—_ I brought these for you.” He immediately stood and held them out to her. The early morning light brought out the hues of blue. “They’re winter roses… I don’t know. I thought you might like them and since we’re going to be, _you know…_ sleeping together again… _”_

Katara took the bouquet, but her expression was anything but pleased. “You know this won’t be a relationship, Tonraq, not like it was before. You’ll be the father of my child and an important part of his life, but I’m committed to my husband.“

“I understand, Chieftess. I only meant to do something nice.” The waterbender sat again, folding his arms over his chest. “I acted out of turn, yesterday. It wasn’t my place to get between you and Prince Zuko. Consider this my apology… and my acceptance. I want to help you. I promise I won’t let my feelings cloud my judgment.” 

“Your feelings? You really didn’t fall for anyone else?” she asked. “Over a _decade?”_

“No, Chieftess. You were it.” 

_“Hm…”_ Katara arranged the roses in a vase, pulling water from the air to fill it, then moved behind her desk and sat down. Tonraq’s gaze was on her, almost like he was trying to get a read on her feelings. She smiled privately, knowing Zuko was the only one who could do that. 

Even still, she didn’t want Tonraq to feel she was being callous. “I _do_ care about you still, not in a romantic sense, but I can’t deny that you were important to me once. That’s why I asked you.” 

“I want someone I’m comfortable being with. I don’t want to feel… unsafe or unnecessarily vulnerable,” Katara explained. “As much as I trust Siku and Kesuk, sleeping with them would be… awkward, even tense. The council gave me options, too, but a man I don’t even know? It’d be torturous.”

Tonraq nodded in understanding, “I’ll do this, Katara. You have my word.” Then, the bob of his head stopped. His lips quivered with a question. Finally: “When?” 

“I should ovulate sometime this week.” Katara swallowed and sat back in her chair, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She hadn’t even told Zuko that; a part of her worried he imagined this being far off. In reality, she wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. 

“We’ll spend a few days together,” she explained, “so we don’t miss the window. But, not in the palace. I want somewhere private. It’d probably make it easier on Zuko if it’s not happening right under his nose.” 

Katara crossed her arms. “I’ll let you know… For now, you can go home and prepare yourself to move in here.” 

* * *

Zuko spent the morning teaching Kya and Ursa painting techniques. In the afternoon, he had plans to help them with their firebending. He was trying to do anything to keep his mind off of what was happening with his wife, and spending time with his children was the best way to do it. However, Katara seemed to finish earlier than usual. 

Zuko went heading for the closet to get more paint when he saw Katara alone, playing with a bouquet of roses at her desk. He smiled warmly, and walked over to her room. “Hey,” whispered Zuko, his gaze falling on the flowers, and not wanting to even hazard a guess of where they came from. 

“Those are nice,” he stated, his hands entirely covered in paint, and a few splashes on his face as well. He smirked, “Though, whoever the donor was should learn that _peonies_ are your favorite.”

* * *

Katara rolled her eyes playfully and stood up to kiss Zuko’s cheek. “Whoever the _donor_ is hasn’t quite figured that I’ve changed in the last ten years. Even my flower preferences are different, now.”

She smirked up at him, not minding the paint that smeared her hands as she cupped his face. He was beautiful. Every time she saw him, Katara thought the same thing. His eyes sparkled with happiness and humor and that crooked grin he reserved just for her always slid across his face.

“I love you,” she said with a small chuckle, pecking the corner of his mouth. “You are adorable, even when you’re jealous.” She nuzzled him for a moment, then returned to her desk.

The flowers were still centered on it, so Katara moved the vase to the corner, giving the bouquet another quick glance. She looked at Zuko then, her expression more solemn than it was when he first came in. “You know, I can tell you a million times that picking Tonraq and sleeping with Tonraq will mean nothing, but I need you to believe me, Zuko.”

“It’s _just_ sex,” she stated firmly. “It won’t mean what it means with you. It won’t even come close, okay? Even with a child involved… I know what kind of man you are and what kind of father you are; Tonraq… He’s a good, genuine person, a strong warrior, and someone I trust, but he’s _half_ of what you are, and even that might be a stretch. Please. Just trust me.” 

* * *

Katara’s warm words and gestures genuinely reassured him. Zuko smiled, leaning in close to her, and nuzzling her cheek in return, his heart feeling warmed. He was glad she always knew just what to say to make him feel better, even amidst the darkest of times. “I love you too,” whispered Zuko, giving her hand a squeeze, and he tilted his head in concern when she looked back up at him, looking more worried. 

Her next reassurances were darker and grimmer, but they still did reassure him. He still felt more secure– he trusted her. Zuko believed every word Katara said. He had no doubts of her sincerity. “I know,” he told her, giving her hands another squeeze. 

“I- I’ll always be upset about this,” he admitted, “But, the reason this isn’t ruining things– ruining us– is because, well firstly, I really, really love you, but I also trust you,” he promised. “I trust you to be true, despite how this all feels like the opposite… I know this wasn’t your decision. I know that if we were farmers in the countryside out of Ba Sing Se, you’d never do this…” he whispered. “It’s really hard, but… the tribe has to come first. I’m one man, and your tribe is thousands. They need you, and I do too, but… I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

“I know. I believe you.” Katara’s smile returned, warm and bright. The part of her that harbored her own insecurities faded, at least for the moment.

As soon as her gaze drifted from Zuko’s, landing on the flowers again, she felt her throat closing in. “So, _um…_ I’ll be gone for the next of days,” she murmured, unable to look at her husband. Shame colored her cheeks red.

“Like, I told Tonraq, I’m supposed to ovulate this week,” Katara explained, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t to miss the chance. Better now, than later, I think… gives us less time to fret over it all. Hopefully, it only takes one cycle.”

She swallowed. Her vision blurred on the vase of blue flowers and she felt her eyes start to burn from the lack of blinking. Or was it tears? She shook her head to ward off the feeling.

“Why I don’t join you and the kids,” she suggested, swiping the backs of her hands across her eyes before any crying could start. Katara shuffled the few documents on her desk and put them away. "It’ll be good to spend some time with them before I leave.“

* * *

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re already going?” asked Zuko, but what she said made sense. He just assumed he had time to prepare- emotionally. “I- I understand, I do, I just– I don’t know why, I expected we’d have a little bit in between,” Zuko whispered, but he nodded, “I suppose it doesn’t matter when… the sooner it’s over with is better,” he agreed, sitting down across from her with a deep sigh. 

He took her hand over her desk, and brought it to his lips, then held the back of Katara’s hand against his scarred cheek affectionately. Zuko wanted to hold his wife while he could. It felt like she was going to be gone an eternity. He didn’t know how long. And, it surprised him she was going away. He had it in his head she’d bring Tonraq to their bed. He was relieved of that, but he also had it in his head that he’d be able to hold her that same night. 

“I didn’t know you were going away,” whispered Zuko. “Of course… I… it’s up to you,” he stated, trying not to push her away or push her for what to do. But, it made him even more nervous knowing she’d be with him all night… they’d be up talking, and holding each other, or kissing, or anything. Zuko let out a shaky sigh, pushing out the doubts. He _trusted_ Katara. 

“Whatever makes this easiest on you, I support it,” Zuko assured her, giving her a somber smile then standing to kiss her temple. “Why don’t we take the kids out for hot chocolate and to one of the theater performances? It… it can take our minds off things, and I think the children will enjoy it.”

* * *

“I mean, I won’t be going _far._ I’ll be close enough that if you or the children need me…” Katara countered, squeezing his hand. She quickly figured the distance wasn’t the issue though, it was the privacy. He was worried.

Her eyes flicked around as she searched for the best way to explain. “I just… I thought it’d be better for you if it wasn’t happening right under your nose. I think it’ll be better for _me,_ too.”

“I’ve built a life with you here,” Katara said. “This is our _home._ Tonraq may have to live here after it’s over, but… I don’t know. I felt the least I could do is respect the sanctity of _our_ home and _our_ life.”

She pressed her lips together and looked down, retracting her hand to make fists. Katara dug her knuckles into her hips as her mind worked, but she kept quiet on her thoughts.

It wouldn’t help things to admit she wanted the privacy for herself, too; Katara was hoping it'd stave off the guilt she already battled. If she wasn’t in the palace, she wouldn’t be thinking about her kids or the pain on her husband’s face or the fact that she was placing her nation over her marriage, which had to make her a terrible wife, right?

_“Ugh…”_   Katara brought a hand to her forehead and massaged away at the tension there, releasing a long sigh as she did. When she looked up, Zuko was watching her with concern, but Katara brushed it off. “Come on, you’re right.”

She moved around her desk and took his hand. “Let’s get you and the kids cleaned up… then, we can spend the night out in the town.” 

* * *

The fact that she wasn’t coming home afterwards made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted that reassurance after that she was back– that he was still hers, and Tonraq was not. But, Zuko knew that it was Katara who had to go through this, and it had to be on her terms. He didn’t want to do anything that would make her in the least uncomfortable– even more so than she already seemed. 

So, he smiled at her, and assured her that whatever she thought was best, he would go along with. This was something she had to do… he really had no right making any shots, or even suggesting them without prompting, even if it hurt him. He tried to forget about it, at least for the night, and take their children out to see the play Nanook of the North. 

But, quickly after the play ended, and whipped cream mustaches were wiped away, reality set in. They went to bed– and the few nights following, Zuko held his wife closer than ever, knowing his bed would be empty, and his nights would be sleepless for a week. She was only going ten miles out, but it might as well have been to the North Pole. He felt like she was going off to war. 

It was brisk and early, and the snow was falling softly in the sunrise. It looked beautiful as Katara stood beside Tonraq, their sled behind them, ready to go. Zuko threw Katara’s luggage in the back for her, and tried to fight his tears as he stood there feeling like he could throw up. 

“It’ll all be okay,” Zuko promised, smiling though he was close to tears, and he nodded affirmatively. “I’ll see you real soon,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her face one last time and letting out a shaky sigh. 

It didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like he was saying goodbye to her to go off and sleep with this other man, all with the intention of conceiving. Zuko remembered how delighted they were when she was pregnant with Hakoda. He looked over to Tonraq and remembered Katara’s promise that it could never be the same with him. Still, he was getting to share something with Katara that was supposed to be just theirs. She was getting to create a living, breathing, little baby with him– and he was getting to give her the pieces of his soul, that only Zuko was supposed to be able to. The sting of the jealous was more bitter than the south’s frigid air. 

Zuko looked at Tonraq, trying to mask his underlying fury towards him because how could he blame a man for loving Katara? And, Tonraq was respectful to him– and their marriage, at least so far, the baby wasn’t here yet, but nonetheless that was presumptuous. Zuko forced a smile at the man who was all but stealing his wife away. He wondered if Tonraq was happy about this… did he see it as a chance to win back a lost love? The council wanted Katara to leave Zuko, anyway. What if Tonraq wanted to bank on that– capitalize on it, and cajole her? He trusted Katara, but he had no reason to be so welcoming of Tonraq. He had yet to really prove himself either way when it came down to push come to shove. Zuko felt like he was falling right now, and the coming months he’d know when he hit the ground.

“Kat can take care of herself… but… you better take damn good care of her,” Zuko playfully warned, seriousness behind the teasing– a slight warning guised in jest. 

“Oh, I don’t think I’d worry about Tara, Prince Zuko… we’ll be just fine.”

“I’m _sure_ you will, Tonraq,” Zuko retorted sharply in vexation, turning back to his wife. “The children and I are already counting down the days until your home,” Zuko whispered with a smile. “Good… good luck,” he spoke, then stepping in to embrace her tightly, and whispering in her ear for only her to hear, “I love you so, so much,” Zuko choked in a cracked whisper, and so very reluctant to let go.


	37. Chapter 37

Letting go of Zuko was physically painful. Katara felt like she couldn’t breathe without him. The cold wind whipped across her face, lashing at the tears she failed to keep in. It set a tremble in her bones, one that didn’t fade even beneath the warm, fur blankets lining sleigh. 

 _‘I love you so, so much.’_ The phrase rang in her ears, louder than the panting deer and the rush of the sleigh’s runners over freshly fallen snow. Katara clung to her husband’s voice, fists being made in the blanket over her lap. Was that last time she’d hear Zuko say it?

Even worse, was that the last time he’d believe her when she said it back? She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to memorize the feel of his. _La,_ she already missed him. 

////////

The ride out of town wasn’t long. Katara remembered it. She’d made this same trip the week of her wedding. Arriving with Tonraq then, she couldn’t tell if the spirits were playing some cosmic joke or if she was the one being foolish. 

Around and around and around in her head flew a dozen possibilities. She should’ve said no. She should've told the council to fuck off, or fuck Tonraq if that’s what they really wanted. She should’ve run, or declared martial law, or just given up the throne. Zuko was worth it.

Of course, her thoughts reminded her of all the reasons she hadn’t. She couldn’t abandon her people. She couldn’t risk a world war. She couldn’t put herself in a position that’d create resentment within her family. 

“Katara?” Tonraq touched her lower back. 

She jumped, realizing quickly that she was standing in the snow beside the sleigh, staring at the hut.  _“What?”_

Tonraq retracted his hand slowly. “Sorry, you were just…” He shrugged. Katara couldn’t fathom that this was as awful for him as it was for her, but his face looked taut and she thought, maybe it was. 

“Why don’t we go inside? Warm up?” he suggested. He stooped to collect their bags, leading the way with heavy footfalls. 

The door opened and creaked shut. The interior was _horribly_ the same. A bed just big enough for two took up the center of the room. There was a sofa, a fireplace, a stove with a silver kettle— Katara looked around slowly, then finally went to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“How, _um—”_ She watched Tonraq visibly swallow. He’d set down their bags and gone to the fireplace, poked around in it until flames curled up around the logs. Now, he was standing halfway to her, rubbing the back of his neck. “How d-do you want to do this?”

Katara stared. “Well… I’m pretty sure you sprout an erection and then you—” 

“Obviously! I know how sex _works.”_ He sounded annoyed. It made her happy, until she found his expression ever patient. 

“Katara,” he softly said. “Tara…” 

“Don’t call me that! No nicknames! Zuko calls me Kat and I don’t want to be called anything else by anyone else. You can use my full name or Chieftess.” 

Katara crossed her arms. A part of her felt bad for snapping, but pent-up tears and guilt were her only real companions. She couldn’t let those show in front of him… so, Tonraq got her fighting words and petty glare. 

But, he only nodded in the path of her temper. “Alright. Okay…  _Katara._ That’s fair.” 

She looked at Tonraq in surprise. He licked his lips, taking her silence as his cue to talk on. 

“This must be impossibly hard for you,” he murmured, “and I’m sorry.” 

Tonraq came closer. Katara didn’t move, not until he sat beside her on the bed and she tilted her head to better read him. She caved a little bit, “It hurts.” 

“I know. You love him. I’m so sorry,” Tonraq said, again. Then, “I want to help. I know you’re doing this for the Water Tribe. The sacrifice you’re willing to make is… _unbelievable._ All I want to do is help you. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel safe and feel good. So, tell me what’s okay. Tell me what’s off-limits. I’ll respect whatever you say.” 

* * *

The only way he was going to get through this was if he busied himself to the point where he could hardly remember it was happening. That proved impossible, but keeping busy still helped. Zuko kept helping his kids practice their fire bending, and he helped them paint. He took them out for lunch, and penguin sledding. They all made him smile, but they all looked just like Katara, and none of it- all the things they always did with her– were the same without her there. 

In the back of his mind, Zuko couldn’t stop the racing thoughts. There was a knot in his stomach all damn day. He’d always pause what he was doing, and intrusive thoughts would make him anxious. He couldn’t get rid of the intrusive images of Tonraq’s lips all over his wife’s skin. 

“Dad?” Hakoda spoke, tugging at his father’s sleeve, and Zuko smiled at his son, kneeling to his level. 

“What is it, turtle duck?” asked Zuko, putting his hands on the boy’s forearms. 

“Why are you sad?” he asked, frowning– worry in his little, blue eyes. 

“Hakoda, don’t worry,” Zuko whispered, squeezing his arms and then kissing his forehead. “I’m just tired, and there’s nothing for you to worry about except your math homework,” he teased him, “But, that’s not until after dinner, so go off with your sisters and your brother and have fun.”

Hakoda was perceptive enough already at his ripe age to know that his father had told him a white lie. 

The day passed with Zuko a wreck of nerves, but he was able to manage through dinner, and the kids’ homework, and tucking them into bed. But, what he wasn’t ready for was going to bed himself. 

Zuko closed the door behind him, and it was too quiet. It was quieter than when she went away on business, or on visits. The room felt cold and empty, even with the fireplace. He felt entirely alone, and trapped with his thoughts. Zuko tried to sit down and read a book, but every time he read a sentence, he had to re-read it because he couldn’t retain a thing. He had a one-track mind on Katara and thinking about how she was, how she was feeling, if Tonraq was treating her right. 

As he stood in the shower, leaning his head on the wall until his fingers were leathered and wrinkled, he thought of the darker, more envious, more selfish things. His hands were trembling as he thought about Katara kissing him, and Tonraq’s hands tangled in her tousled hair. He wondered how many times they’d had sex– if they’d had any at all yet. He couldn’t stop thinking about Katara resting her head on his chest in the same bed they spent their wedding nights in. He thought about Katara listening to the beat of Tonraq’s heart, or tracing shapes gently on his skin while she laughed lowly. 

Zuko rung out his hands, pacing the floor as he thought about her arms entangled in his, or laughing so hard until their sides hurt. He wanted these things out of his head, but they wouldn’t shake. He’d never felt so lonely in his entire life, and he craved his uncle, but he couldn’t even write him. This was all a secret from him, so he just had to pace the floor. 

He attempted to sleep, but stared at the wall blankly with shaking limbs. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this for the next– however many nights. His cheeks were damp, and he was shaking, and sleep was impossible. He wondered if Katara was getting any, and despite all his jealousy, he always wished the best for her. He held no resentment, but still he was full of envy. He trusted her, but the doubts still plagued him. 

He just wanted her to come _home_. He never wanted to see Tonraq ever again, but fuck, that charming bastard was going to haunt him the rest of his god damn life.

* * *

 

For most of the morning and into the late afternoon, Katara did nothing but observe. Tonraq unpacked his things, then hers, and arranged the items in a small bureau beside the bed. He made them both tea, though Katara disregarded the offering and prepared her own coffee. Something about accepting even the smallest gesture made her feel guilty. 

She did talk to him, though. A little. As she sat down with her steaming mug, Katara went over everything he asked:

 __Don’t call me Love, Snowflake, or Tara. Nothing but my name.  
Don’t try to cuddle up beside me. You may not hold me.  
No, we’re not sharing the bed when we sleep.  
I— I don’t know about kissing. I’ll tell you when we get there.  

Katara felt better with the ground rules established. Tonraq listened to everything, absorbed things patiently. She appreciated it. But, when she sat still long enough, she couldn’t hide how her body shivered. 

Tonraq thought it was the cold, though the hut wasn’t even chilly. He drew her bath and poured bubbles into the scalding water. Katara waited until he’d turned away before she undressed and slipped into the clawfoot tub. She still trembled. 

A cup of tea was placed on the tub’s ledge for her. Katara drew her knees up, resting her chin on them, and stared at it. Zuko always drank tea when they soaked away their troubles together. He said the bath was to ease his body and the tea was to ease his mind. Zuko also said his uncle said that… he thought his own idioms were far less eloquent. 

Thinking of it made her laugh, just a quiet, halting sound hidden by her breath. It was still enough to draw Tonraq’s attention. His blue eyes flitted above the edge of a book he read on the bed. 

“What is it?” 

Katara thinned her lips into a line. “Nothing.” 

“You know you can talk to me,” he said, setting his book aside. The bed creaked as Tonraq shifted his weight, moving to sit on the edge. “I don’t care if it’s about him… or the things that plague your mind.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to talk,” she retorted. 

Her eyes found his across the room, covering what little space they had. Her look was hard, tense. Tonraq’s seemed wary. She knew he wasn’t going to move unless she did; he wasn’t going to push any boundaries. Katara also knew if she didn’t move now, she never would. She’d be stuck here, imprisoned in this hut with her waterbending ‘ _savior_ ,’ forever wishing for the firebender back home, warming her body and her bed. 

Katara gripped the edges of the tub and stood. Water spilled from her curves, drenching the floor as she stepped out onto the wood. She knew Tonraq was looking; his gaze was practically burning her skin, but her eyes stayed down on her toes. She waited… Soon enough, he closed the distance. 

_///////_

_It wasn’t terrible,_ Katara thought. _He was… good. And gentle._  

Tonraq slumped on top of her. She felt him breathing in the crook of her neck. Her own was tight, still; her heart ached in her chest. Katara’s hands rested on the small of his bare, sweaty back. Her fingers tapped his skin, a nervous tick that was quickly becoming a habit. 

 _La,_ she was nauseous. 

“I’m sorry,” Tonraq muttered. His lips grazed her throat. “It’s been a while. Do you want me to make you come?” 

Katara shook her head, a flat, “No.” 

“Are you sure? It’s only fair.” 

“I said no. I wasn’t close.” 

She closed her eyes. It wasn’t like she was seeing much of anything while staring up blankly at the ceiling, aside from the vision of her husband’s wounded face. _Fuck,_ Katara thought. How would he look when she came back?

Tonraq must’ve sensed her dark mood. The nuzzling along her collarbone stopped. His lips halted above her breasts. He glanced up at her, then lifted his head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. Immediately, his fingers brushed her cheek. He pushed sweaty hair out of her face and tenderly cradled her head in both his hands. “Katara, you’re not okay. Do you want me to—”

Katara bit her lip. She was going to cry. She could feel it. 

“Get off of me,” she whispered. “Get off of me. _Get out of me!”_ Her voice rose quickly to a strained, desperate level, and her hands clawed at his chest.  _“Get out!”_  

He responded quickly. His weight left her and the bed. Katara curled onto her side, her arms over her chest in a for bid for modesty. The tears came, as she expected, but she stayed quiet. Tonraq watched for a moment; she could hear him swallow with his own, hidden emotion. 

Neither said another word. He eventually covered her with a blanket and retreated to the couch. Katara dozed off, sleeping fitfully until the next morning. 

* * *

 

When Zuko woke up, or rather, got up, as he didn’t sleep a wink, everything felt so distant. Throwing his legs over their bed, and spotting the creeping in of the sun, Zuko’s first thoughts were wondering if Katara woke up entangled in Tonraq’s arms. He wondered if Tonraq kissed Katara awake the way he did every morning. He knew, at least, there’d be no children clambering into their bed in the morning. Zuko could keep that as their own ritual. He smiled at that, knowing he could expect it still. They’d still want to attack their father; he was always the main victim in the tickle ambushes anyway. 

Zuko grabbed his book, and tried again to sift through it. It was no good, the words were blurry from the constant threat of tears, the main characters’ romance made him want to chuck the book across the room, and he couldn’t concentrate a smidge on any one word, let alone read it coherently enough for sentences, then stories. 

The only thing that lifted his spirits was the rumbling in the corridors and squealing of each other’s names that his kids brought. Zuko smirked, and pretended to be asleep as not to ruin their fun of assuming they’d disturbed him. He put the book over his face to hide his laughter as the kids hopped all over him, laughing, and he pretended to fight back, tickling them each. At least no one could ever take his children away. No matter what, he’d always be their father.

* * *

There was a clatter to her left and Katara’s eyes drifted open slowly, flicking to the source of noise. Tonraq stood at the stove, dressed in low-slung pants with his hair showering around his bare shoulders, apparently in a fight with the burner and the fire rocks. A fight he was losing. He cursed under his breath, a hissing sound that Katara mimicked, rolling over in the bed and dropping the pillow on her face.

“You know, when I agreed to this, I thought I’d at least get to _sleep in_ ,” she growled at him. “And here you are, waking me up before I’d like to be.”

Tonraq laughed. “Zuko doesn’t let you do what you want?”

“My husband is a firebender, as are all of my children.” Annoyance leaked into her tone. Now, it was less about waking early and more about the insinuation hidden in the question, like her husband was _less than_ and he’d be better to her. “They’re up with the sun.”

Katara tossed the blankets aside and perched on the edge of the bed, slipping a robe around her shoulders. Her defenses were quickly rising as sleep wore off. The urge to fight, to pick at Tonraq’s emotions, came bubbling up. “I don’t mind the early mornings, not as much as I say. I get to spend the extra hour with my kids. They come bounding into the bed, laughing and full of life.”

“When his younger siblings couldn’t walk, Hakoda would get them out of their cribs and carry them in, so no one would miss out… I imagine he’ll do the same for his newest brother or sister.” She smiled at Tonraq, though there was something malicious in it.

If her goal was to wound him, it worked. Hurt flickered in Tonraq’s icy, blue eyes before he turned around to hide it. His slashes of the fire rocks grew more vigorous, aggressive.

“You don’t have to do that, Katara.”

“Do what?” She played innocent.

“Assert your claim… or whatever,” he grumbled. "I know the baby will yours. I’ll get to see him or her, but I’m really just here until the sperm meets the egg. The baby will be yours and Prince Zuko’s.“ The fire rocks clattered down on the stove. Tonraq ran his hands into his hair, then set his fists on his hips. He turned around to face her, his expression heavy. "And I know you’re his. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that out. His dragon is wrapped around your damn leg.”

Katara looked at him in stunned silence, then looked down. Her robe had split open, revealing her left thigh and the black ink that’d decorated her skin for eight years now. She pulled the robe shut, fighting the urge to cry.

Tonraq sighed audibly, “I like it, though. The tattoo. It— it suites you. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you.” She felt like she should say something more. Guilt had settled in her belly from her deliberate cruelty. So, she added, “I like… all of yours, too.”  

A little snort left the waterbender’s lips, but he relaxed slightly. “Does Zuko have one? It’s an old marriage ritual, isn’t it?”

“A seascape. It wraps around his thigh.” She smiled privately, remembering the fascination in Zuko’s eyes when he’d seen hers, and the excitement his gaze held when the tattoo artist created his. After it healed, she’d spent far too much time running her fingers, then her lips, over the raised lines.

Even though she was happy before, that’d been a turning point for both them. It was a physical commitment, one others could see. She’d shown him how secure she was, how happy she was with him, and Zuko fully stopped with his worries of being nothing more a sperm donor, or something less.

But now, Tonraq was the one fending off those thoughts, and Katara finally took pity on him. She left the bed and nudged him aside, collecting the fire rocks. It only took her a second to light the stove. Tonraq was there with the kettle and Katara walked away to prepare their tea cups.  

A short time passed, then they were both sitting at the table by the window, weighed down by a tangible silence. Katara wasn’t really sure what to say, but she thought it best to start with an apology.

“I shouldn’t have… dug under your skin like that,” she said. “You’re right, I don’t need to do that. This situation’s hard enough, and… well, I’m sorry.” Katara glanced across the table at him, hoping he saw the sincerity in her eyes.

He seemed to catch it. Tonraq put his tea cup down and smiled tightly. "Look.. I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I know you’re married. I know Zuko is your entire world. But, we’re going to have a child together.“ He shrugged uncomfortably. His gaze went back to the window. "The least we can do is not make this torturous.”

“Are you implying that a night with me was torture? I resent that, Captain.”

A small laugh built in Tonraq’s chest. At the very least, it helped lift the mood, and Katara felt better listening to him.

“You can open up to me,” he continued. "You can tell me you’re upset or feeling guilty or… _whatever_. I’ll understand. I’ll do my best to console you. You said it yourself, Katara. We were close once. We probably could be, again, if you’d just let your walls down. I respect that you’re married and you love your husband, but you can let me take care of you. _Hell,_  Zuko told me to. When this is over, we’ll leave it all behind, right here in the hut.“  

Katara squinted at him. "That was a lovely, motivational speech, Tonraq… a beautiful attempt to better sex out of me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or serious,” he growled into his tea.

“Both?” Katara tilted her head, then a laugh finally broke free. She rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her own cup.

As she set the china down, she sensed Tonraq’s gaze on her. Katara looked over at him. “Let’s see how it goes, okay?”

“It was rough last night. I shouldn’t have initiated anything, not with the way I was feeling,” she said, an apology in her tone. “Why don’t we spend the day talking? We can hang out. There's a deck of cards. There’s books. There’s even hot springs nearby. We can just… adjust to this… And, if things don’t progress naturally by, say… sunset, I’ll torture you, again.” She shrugged, slowly smiling at him.

“Sounds fair. I bet I can still beat your ass in Rummy.” Tonraq returned her grin, then said, "You know, all these years have passed… You’re still inexplicably beautiful, especially when you smile like that.“

Katara blushed and looked out the window. "Can I add no compliments to the list of rules?”

“Absolutely not.”

* * *

 

Zuko sent the children off to their tutor after making them waffles and eggs for breakfast. It was their favorite– the waffles smothered in chocolate. He felt like spoiling them, though that was no different than most of the time. Zuko kissed them goodbye for the day, and instantly regretted not pulling them from their studies for another day of fun. He was lonely, and didn’t have much work to do. Zuko sighed deeply, and went to see if Katara had left anything that he could help her out with. 

The guards knew to only let him and the kids in her office, and the kids only when she was in there. He was the only person allowed in unattended. He smirked, noting that Tonraq would never be allowed in here, no matter what. Zuko found a stack of tedious legwork stacked on her desk, and sat down and started forging off her signature, and sifting through the foreign documents, sorting the ones that seemed to important to sign away into a pile. 

He did it mindlessly, the worry nagging at the forefront of his mind the entire time, and his stomach still twisted in anxious knots. But, eventually, he got through all the stacks on the desk, and left the ones that required Katara’s attention in a pile organized by association and priority. Zuko then left the office, hoping it was at least time to pick up the children. He’d been staring off at the wall, fretting, long enough. 

Zuko came out, with his head on his feet despondently, and he bumped into a servant woman. She was young, no older than twenty-one at most, and she blushed when she bumped into him. She took him off guard, as she was very attractive, and Zuko blushed slightly. “I’m sorry, excuse me,” Zuko spoke, nodding with a small, apologetic smile before turning to go.

But, the girl grabbed Zuko by the sleeve, and he turned, puzzled. “Prince Zuko,” she spoke, encroaching on him. “I’m one of your wife’s head servants,” she explained, and Zuko nodded, opening his mouth to perplexedly thank her for her dedication to his family, but she cut him off. “–I know everything about what goes on here,” she added. “My name is Zae.”

“Oh, well… pleasure to meet you,” Zuko said, blushing slightly and scratching the back of his head. 

“I know what your wife did to you, Prince Zuko… I always looked up to the chieftess, but this… this betrayal… I’m so sorry,” she told him, her hand inching up his sleeve, and Zuko slowly retracted uncomfortably. “Listen… I’ve always admired you, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, grabbing his arm, using her thumb to stroke his skin tenderly. She stared at the floor, working up her nerve before meeting his gaze again, her eyes lidded slightly, blushing, and a small smirk on her face. “Prince Zuko, if you’re lonely this week… I’m here, for you? If you need someone to share tea with… talk to… hold your hand… hold you… warm your bed… warm your body,” she murmured, stroking his forearm. “I’ll be here for you when she can’t. She did the same to you, and you just look so _broken_ , Zuko.”

Zuko looked at her, his eyes glazed over with tears, and he sighed deeply, biting his lip. Finally, Zuko shook his head, “How can you say that?” he choked out, then snatching his arm away. “That’s treason,” he spoke. “You’re lucky I don’t have the heart to tell Katara. You’d be banished from the palace in an instant for such nonsense,” Zuko spoke. “Please– leave me be. Don’t go talking either, Agni… no one is to know,” he stated, then turning to leave, angered and hurt. He stopped in his tracks turning to her. 

“And, you’re wrong about Chieftess Katara. She’s looking out for you– her country, and in many ways, me too– importantly, our _children_ ,” he spoke. 

“Good day, Zae.”

* * *

 

True to his word, Tonraq filled her day with mindless activities. Katara followed him from breakfast and tea to the field of snow outside their hut. They sparred for longer than she cared to keep track, evenly matched the entire time. Katara couldn’t say she wasn’t annoyed at never winning, but she’d trained Tonraq herself. 

What ended the duel finally was her stomach; Katara dropped her guard and waved Tonraq back to the hut. They ate lunch in a friendly silence, watching the snow fall outside the window and leave the world covered in fresh, blinding white. It was only when her gaze drifted down to her lap and her eyes glazed over with thoughts of her children that Tonraq took her hand and pulled her back outside. 

They soaked in the hot springs for a while. Katara brought wine. Perhaps she drank too much of it, but she’d rather laugh too loudly than cry over missing her husband and children. 

Eventually, they wandered back inside. Tonraq had to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her walking in a straight line. Warm and dry in the hut, Katara sat down on the bed and her companion brought her water and the deck of cards. They played until she sobered up, lounging on pillows and swapping stories that spanned the last ten years.

When Katara won for the fourth time in a row, Tonraq tossed his cards down and leaned over the game. His kiss took her by surprise. 

 _His lips are warm,_ she noted, _soft and warm._  She remembered the way they used to move against hers, determined and delicate. His tongue used to make her blood heat. His hands in her hair would make goosebumps prickle on her skin. Katara made it her goal to focus on all that, on the present.

Of course, it didn’t last. _His lips aren’t as warm as Zuko’s. His palms aren’t as calloused. His breath doesn’t taste like cinnamon._

The guilt she’d repressed forced its way to the surface. Katara felt panic claw at her lungs. Her breath was short and tight. Her heart ricocheted around in her chest, making her ribs ache. Her lips trembled as she broke the kiss, and when Katara opened her eyes, Tonraq’s were patient.

 _“Don’t_ kiss you?” he asked. His fingers were still locked in her curls. Tonraq let go, his touch slowly skimming down to hold her jaw. “Would that be better?” 

Katara inhaled unsteadily. “I don’t— It feels—” 

“You don’t have to explain. I won’t kiss you.” 

He shifted away to give her space, but she caught his wrists. “You can… you can kiss my neck,” she said, “and… anywhere else you want. Just not… not my lips.” 

“Okay,” Tonraq murmured. “Not your lips.” 

His hands moved away from her chin, drifting back to twist in her hair. With a slight tug, Tonraq exposed the column her throat. His nose skimmed across her skin, then his mouth grazed her collarbone, and Katara let him begin untying the sash on her red and gold tunic. 

With the fabric pushed off her shoulders, Tonraq laid her back on the bed. He braced himself with an elbow at her side, his free hand plucking her lower bindings away, his lips exploring her bare skin. 

His fingers finally slipped between her legs and Katara couldn’t decide if it was a betrayal to Zuko already being wet. She ignored the private question, closing her eyes as Tonraq thumbed her clit. There was no sense in thinking about. She was here with a purpose.

 _But, did her purpose honestly involve this?_ She moaned and mewled, bucked her hips up into Tonraq’s palm. She panted and pleaded, grabbed his wrist to keep his fingers curling inside her. 

When she finally came for him, Tonraq wore a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with lust. She could feel his cock throbbing against her leg. His breath was laborious. He looked like he would devour her if she let him. 

Katara nodded her permission hazily, one hand gripping the back of his head. Tonraq pushed his pants down and moved between her thighs. She tried to suppress it, but a soft cry built in her throat as his hips met hers. 

“Fuck, Katara.” He groaned through the first thrust, drawing it out, savoring it like one would savor a rich dessert. “You’re so—”

Katara put a finger to his lips, tightening the hold she had in his hair. “I said no compliments.” 

Another thrust, this time harder. She raised her hips to meet him. Tonraq buried his face in her neck and growled. “Fine.” 

Then, Katara dug her heels into the backs of his legs, coaxing him on. He answered with quick, hard movements, making the bed frame creak and the headboard thump against the hut’s wooden wall. 

When her second climax hit, she didn’t quiet the cry in her throat. For that, Katara hated herself. She hated it more that Tonraq finished with her, her name on his tongue and his lips against her skin. She could feel his heart beating into her chest as he slowed. 

An overwhelming wish for Zuko made her tense up beneath him, for _his_ heartbeat and _his_ mouth moving up her neck. But this time, when Tonraq lifted his head and caressed her cheek, Katara made herself be strong. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

She nodded. “I’m… better than I was last night.” 

Tonraq pecked her nose then slipped out of the bed. Katara pulled the blankets up to her chin. As she rolled away, turning her back to the man re-dressing and laying down on the couch, she prayed her husband would forgive her for this.

* * *

 

Zuko hardly slept again, and he was starting to feel it. When he did drift off, he’d awake panting in a cold sweat, or he’d toss and turn all night. His head was throbbing like he’d been plastered the night before, and he considered becoming so. 

The only thing keeping him grounded was his children. Zuko made them breakfast again after they attacked him with tickling, and kissed them off to their tutor. Zuko then began to wander the halls– seeking anything to distract his mind with. 

He ran into Pakku in the halls, and smiled at him. Pakku noticed the weariness and sadness in Zuko’s eyes and went over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Zuko just needed someone to speak to– to confide in, and he knew Pakku already knew of everything that was going on. 

Pakku knew this too, and he cared for Zuko. He lead him to one of the living room spaces in the palace, and Zuko set on the fire. Pakku let Zuko drift the conversation, not knowing if he just needed company, or to vent. He decided he’d support him no matter. 

“It’s not that I don’t understand… or I feel betrayed… or I think she’s cheating… I’m just…” Zuko trailed off, poking at the fire while the old man sipped tea on the ornate sofa. 

“You’re hurting,” Pakku finished, and Zuko set down the probe, nodding. He then joined the old man on the couch. 

“I want to talk to my uncle, but I can’t. I want to talk to Katara, too… but I can’t… I can’t even talk to my cousin, or friends in the Tribe…” Zuko whispered. 

“You can always talk to me, Zuko. I won’t judge you, or relay your feelings to Katara without your permission– besides, that’d be for you to do,” Pakku said with a smile, and Zuko smiled back at him. At least he had _someone_.

* * *

“Stop doing that,” Katara demanded, breathing hard.

She’d woken up to Tonraq climbing out of the bathtub, a towel held up to his chest. When he caught her watching, he’d dropped it, opting to pull the water from his hair and body in some kind of ridiculous, audacious display. Katara had laughed at him and thrown a tunic his way. It hit him the face, and while he scrambled to see again, she left the bed and shoved him down in a chair.

Now, she sat in Tonraq’s lap, chest to chest. Her legs dangled on either side of his; her toes barely brushed the floor. He had his hands on her waist and every time he flexed his hips, Katara could still feel him. 

She grumbled when he did it again. “You’re just teasing me! Can you even get it back up that quickly?” 

 _“Mmm…”_ Tonraq looked at her smugly. “Give me a quarter hour.” 

Katara scoffed out loud. “That’s all?” she questioned. She shifted enough to get her feet on the floor and stood up, leaving him naked and satiated in the kitchen chair. She retrieved the tunic she’d thrown and pulled it on. “You’re thirty-eight, idiot, not twenty-eight.”

“How do you know what my stamina was like when I was twenty-eight? You broke up with me.“ Tonraq crossed his arms. "For _another guy.”_  

She walked to the stove to put the kettle on for tea. “My father told me I was betrothed to the Fire Nation’s Prince. I couldn’t say—” Katara looked over her shoulder at him and pulled a face. “Oh. You’re teasing me, again. Stop that, too.”  

“So, I can’t compliment you. I can’t mess with you. I can’t sleep next to you. Is there anything that _is_ acceptable, Chieftess?” 

“Fetching a glass of water and recuperating in the next quarter hour, like you promised, Captain.” 

Tonraq's eyes flashed eagerly. “Yes, ma’am.”

He left the chair and found a glass, filling it to the brim. After a handful of gulps, Tonraq lowered the drink and looked at her thoughtfully. “So, do you and Prince not share a bed?” 

“What business is that of yours?” Katara asked, a brow raised. 

“I’m curious. It was your thing when we were together, and you wanted to marry me,” he said, shrugging. "I’m just wondering if it’s… _still_ your thing.“ 

Katara squinted at the man, then lowered her guard with a sigh. There wasn’t much point to keeping secrets. She was supposed to have a child with him.

“Zuko is the _only_ person I’ve shared a bed with,” she said, averting her gaze to the tea kettle. "I didn’t save sex for marriage… Zuko saw that as something sacred, so he waited, but for me… I don’t know.“ Katara chewed her lip. It hadn't quite sunk in yet, but it did then. She was lonely and cold every night, and constantly dreaming about her husband. She missed him, far more than she let herself admit.

Katara plucked at the tunic’s hem, releasing her lip from her teeth. "There’s something about sleeping beside a person, I think. It’s special, it’s intimate, and it’s reserved just for him.” 

Tonraq nodded. She hoped he was letting his questions go, but his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. "Zuko was a _virgin?”_

“Yes… _Why?_ Why do you say that like it’s some big surprise?”

“I- I don’t know… I’ve heard the rumors about the Fire Lords and, _um…”_ he cleared his throat. “He’s just a really good looking guy! I mean, he’s got the whole—” Tonraq pointed at the left side of his face. "—scar thing going on. Women like—“ 

Katara’s stomach turned into a pit and her face contorted. _"Scar thing?_ Are you fucking serious, Tonraq? How do you think he got that scar?”

“What? Katara, what?”

He wore an expression of shock and confusion, but she ignored his inquiry. Her heart was thumping against her rib cage, and not in a good way. Katara rubbed her temples.

“This whole thing has been a mistake,” she hissed. 

“What whole thing? _Us?_ You said you didn’t have a choice!”

“I didn’t! _I don’t!”_ She whirled around on him. “But, all the talking, picking someone I used to love— You’re not allowed to say a word about my husband. _My husband_ , Tonraq!” Katara shoved him in the chest. She was really no match for his physical strength, but he stumbled away. “You have no idea what Zuko’s been through, all the atrocities he’s faced, and the fact that he’s still here, that he’s at home waiting for me despite what _this_ is doing to him—”

She sucked in a breath, glaring at him with all the spite she could muster. “Zuko is twice the man you will ever be.”

“Katara.” Tonraq looked at her like he was wounded, but she didn’t cave. Her eyes flashed angrily and she stomped away from him. “Katara, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought we were just… Wait, no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I was out of line. I overstepped. I’m—”

“Why don’t you just stop talking?” she spat. Her voice was choked with looming tears and she felt physically ill. Katara kept her back to him, pretending to busy herself with making the bed and picking up the mess of blankets on the couch. “Just stop.”

Tonraq swallowed audibly. “Okay, fair enough… I’m sorry, Chieftess. I am.”

* * *

 

After talking to Pakku, Zuko felt much better. It felt good to simply get it all off his chest. Pakku understood how he was hurting, but also reassured Zuko that Katara loved him deeply, and while no one could negate his pain, he shouldn’t fear his wife leaving him or losing her love. Finally, Zuko was able to doze off on the sofa after Pakku had left and they’d finished their herbal tea of his uncle’s blend. 

When he awoke, he was greeted by a servant with a messenger hawk on her shoulder. She shook him awake, and Zuko rubbed his eyes, wishing for more sleep. 

“There’s an urgent letter from the Fire Nation– from Fire Lord Iroh,” uttered the servant. “It’s extremely classified, I was told,” she explained, then bowing respectfully. 

Zuko nodded, and held his breath, not liking the sound of any of that. The letter was addressed to him in his uncle’s handwriting, so he at least knew his uncle was safe. He was still terrified to open the letter. It wreaked of bad news, and Zuko’s hands trembled as he flipped his thumb at the letter’s seal. He held his breath, and chewed his lip, wishing to God that Katara was here to help give him the strength to open the letter. 

Zuko stood up, and walked to the window, another nervous habit of his. He took a deep breath, said a prayer, and opened the letter. 

When he scanned the letter, his worst fears were confirmed. 

Zuko’s heart dropped into his stomach, and he was stricken numb. He re-read the letter a million times, trying to find he’d misread something. He shook his head, and his hands trembled more and he choked on a sob, his hand flying to his forehead. 

> _My Dear Nephew,_
> 
> _I don’t even know what to say. I am heartbroken. My son is destroyed. My beautiful grandson has been murdered at only ten-years-old. He was murdered for being a waterbending heir by a crazy civilian who has since been put to death. I am trying to keep it quiet that the rest of my grandchildren are also water benders. I will not back down. They will not discourage me from putting my grandchild on the throne and honoring this treaty I promised to your father-in law. Please come home, my son. We need you here. Lu Ten needs you. Yue may need Katara. I am still numb._
> 
> _I love you very much, Zuko. Hold your little ones close,_
> 
> _Uncle_

Zuko let the letter flutter from his hands to the ground. He couldn’t believe what had happened. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his heart was shattering for his cousin. Why would someone do that? Why would they kill Arnook? He was the kindest soul. Zuko couldn’t fathom he was gone– and for nothing but bigotry. He was terrified now for his own son. He was shaken and grief-stricken for his entire family. Suddenly, Zuko didn’t give a fuck about Tonraq– he needed to go to Katara. 

Zuko asked Pakku to watch over the children, looking a mess. Zuko hadn’t slept but that meager nap in days, and his eyes were red from tears. He was visibly shaken, anxious, and upset. “Zuko… I don’t think this is a good idea,” Pakku tried to talk him out of it, but Zuko wasn’t ready to disclose what had actually happened. 

“Pakku, I need to see Katara,” Zuko spoke, the letter tucked away in his pocket, and standing with some other oblivious servants who’d be taking him to the hut. “Thank you for watching my children– tell them I’ll be back to tuck them in, okay,” Zuko told him before clapping his shoulder on his way to the sled. 

Zuko was still shocked by the news he’d received, and going out to this hut was filling him with even more dread. He didn’t know what he’d walk in on. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t exactly want to. By the time they reached the hut, Zuko felt like he was going to throw up. 

It brought him back to he and Katara’s time there ten years ago. The fact she was sharing it with Tonraq made him feel like he was nothing. But, there was so much happening, and he just needed her. He needed her so badly. Zuko took a deep breath to hold in his tears– then knocked before opening the door, and for the second time he’d had the wind knocked out of him. 

Katara was lying on the same bed their marriage had been consummated in, with Tonraq’s head between her thighs, her hands clutching the sheets. Zuko blushed, and averted his gaze quickly– his heart taking another bullet. 

“I–” Zuko whispered, putting his hand over his face in shame apologetically. “I’m so sorry,” he spoke. “I didn’t mean…” he stammered. Tears beginning to fall, but he kept his hand over his face, now not knowing what to do. It felt like everything was crumbling down around him.

* * *

They made up at some point in the day. Tonraq was nothing if not persistent to earn her forgiveness, and Katara’s temper evaporated with a bubble bath he drew for her. She didn’t necessarily want to argue over things he said in jesting and other things he couldn’t have known. She wanted to argue even less when Tonraq sat on the tub’s edge and spent a half hour working at the tension in her shoulders.

That was how they found themselves back in the bed, with Tonraq teasing her only in ways that earned him moans of approval. He seemed hell bent on taking his time, working her up, making her crash down with soft cries. She might’ve pretended to hold a grudge, just so he’d kiss down her body and settle with his lips between her legs.

Positioned there, Katara gave him direct orders to _keep_ taking his time, and she lay back, closing her eyes. One hand made a fist in his hair, the other grabbed at the sheets. She rocked her hips up, grinding against his tongue. She let her thoughts roam; he’d never know she was picturing her bed back home, imagining it was her husband bringing her right to the edge—

A voice she recognized all to well made Katara freeze. Her eyes snapped open, towards the source. Zuko stood there, his face a bright, crimson red.

 _“Zuko?”_ Katara nearly shrieked.

Tonraq lifted his head, blinking in bewilderment at her, then registering their visitor. His pupils turned to pinpoints in his eyes. "Fuck. _Fuck!“_

He scrambled off the bed as quickly as Katara scrambled for clothing, ducking behind the sofa where his sleep pants lay forgotten. Katara, on the other hand, wrapped the first tunic she found around her shoulders and lifted up on her knees on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Panic, as sick and heavy and nauseating as it could be, flooded her veins. She was shaky and hot. Katara knew he’d never come here unless it was serious, more serious than being envious and stressed. Her thoughts immediately went to her children.

She swallowed, trying to keep her breath even and steady, and slipped off the bed to go to her husband. He might not have wanted it, not after the scene he’d walked in on, but Katara reached up and cupped his face. “Zuko, love, what is it? What’s wrong? Is it the _kids?_ Please tell me it’s not— not the kids.” 

* * *

It was hard to act like that was nothing. He was expected to just go on about seeing some man between his wife’s of ten years thighs like it was nothing. He wasn’t supposed to act like it hurt to see her tangle her hand in another man’s hair. Zuko took a deep and shaky breath, pretending his world wasn’t being turned upside down- that even though he knew it wasn’t the same- it still looked like cheating, and it hurt.

It didn’t hurt more than the news he came here with, though. And, Zuko met Katara’s gaze. It was hard to keep it, seeing her with Tonraq’s robe on. She always wore _his_ around, and it felt like a dagger to the throat to see her pull that man’s over her body the same way she pulled Tonraq’s body over hers, and left Zuko’s in the dust.

Zuko’s pain was nothing compared to his cousin’s, however, or his uncle’s. Zuko couldn’t fathom one of his babies _slain_. He wouldn’t be able to go on if one of his children were dead, let alone slaughtered in futile, vengeful blood. Innocent Arnook— dead. It made Zuko’s skin run cold, and pallor. His throat bobbed and his lip jutted.

“Agni, Kat,” Zuko whimpered, wishing Tonraq would vanish.

“Not ours… but Arnook, Lu Ten’s boy,” Zuko spoke, putting his hand over his face as he was reduced to tears from the accumulating weight of it all. “They murdered him, Kat,” Zuko choked out, falling into her arms despite himself.

She smelled like Tonraq when he nuzzled his wet face into her neck. “They killed him— they killed an innocent ten-year-old boy. I have to go home- to Uncle, to Lu… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came here— I didn’t know what else _to do_.”

* * *

“What?” Her breath left her body, both from the shock and the sudden impact of Zuko’s weight. Katara stumbled, catching him and herself as best she could. “Oh my— oh my god. _Oh my god.”_

It was all she could say, three, empty words as her husband cried into her neck and the world crashed down on her shoulders. A pain she couldn’t quite describe squeezed her heart. “I want my kids. _Fuck—”_

“I need my kids!” Katara cried. Her eyes blurred over. She grabbed Zuko's forearms so hard it had to leave bruises on his pale skin. “Take me back, Zuko. Please. I just— I need my things. I—”

Katara pulled away blindly, clawing at her throat like it’d help her get air. Her eyes searched the room, not seeing a thing, not registering anything. She started grabbing at whatever she could: her clothes, her bag, her shoes.

“Katara. Katara,  _stop.”_

She looked up, momentarily broken free from the clutches of panic. Tonraq had approached her, and he gently took the items she’d haphazardly gathered. “I’ll pack all your stuff, okay? I’ll drop it off with your personal guard. You just go, you and Zuko.  _Go._ And if you need to leave the country for the Fire—”

“—Pakku,” she interrupted, her mind a whirling mess. “I'll make Pakku the interim chief. I can manage, _uh…._ a week. The council will give me a week.”

There was so much to consider, but she had to go with her husband, even if it risked the council pushing her out of power. They were already threatening it if she didn’t fall pregnant within six months.

Katara looked at Zuko, her fingers making snarled knots in her hair as she ran them through. She wondered if he could see the complete panic in her eyes, if he’d even understand her fears. She had no doubt Arnook was killed because of his element; it was exactly what she feared for Hakoda, if she made him the heir. She feared it for all of her children—

And they were all the way back home, _an hour by sleigh._

Her eyes found her husband’s, a hoarse whisper on her tongue. “Lu Ten’s son was murdered and you just left my children there? You- y—”

She suddenly couldn’t stop her tears. They streamed down her face with horribly, sobbing cries as her mind flashed with a million different horrors. She had to get back. She had to see their faces, their bright, little eyes, and the color of life on their skin.

Katara spun around and threw on what she could— a warm, winter tunic and blue leggings. She stomped into her boots, found the coat she'd taken from Zuko’s wardrobe before she left, and marched out into the snow.

“Come on,” she urged. She was practically jumping at the reigns, begging to go home. “Zuko, please. Let’s go. I need to see my kids. I have to know they’re alright.”

* * *

Zuko felt like he was dissociating the entire ride back. His head was lost in deep-seated worry as the cold whipped their faces. His stomach was in knots, and he didn’t know what to say, except hold Katara’s hand tight. Zuko could only picture Lu Ten’s face when he heard the news. He could hear his uncle breaking into a sob. He could see Yue screaming for someone to save their child. He didn’t want to see any of it, but he saw it all, and it made him tremble. It made him only feel sicker– and it made him scared for his own babies. 

On top of it, Zuko was a mess of nerves already and was running on no sleep. He couldn’t get the image of Tonraq between his wife’s legs out of his head now, and worry pulled up at his chest. Katara promised she loved him and only him, that he was her one and only for life, but he was scared she was re-catching feelings. She was wearing his robe, there were teacups everywhere, he could only imagine the laughter, the bonding, her head on his chest while she slept. 

Zuko’s entire life was spiraling out of control, and now, his little cousin was murdered. Zuko couldn’t stop shaking in the wind, and he squeezed his wife’s hand tighter, as if that would keep her with him, and away from Tonraq. It didn’t matter how kind Tonraq could be, Zuko couldn’t stand him. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with him the rest of his life– living in the palace, co-parenting with _his_ wife, almost like another loveless marriage and Zuko had no intentions of sharing. It all made Zuko sick to his stomach. 

All Zuko wanted was to go back to the Fire Nation and be with his uncle and cousin. He wanted to hold them, and be held, even if he couldn’t let them know– they had bigger worries anyway than blurred lines of infidelity and his sleepless nights. If he were Lu Ten, he’d never sleep again. How would they go on? How could you go on when your son was dead? If someone murdered Hakoda, Zuko didn’t think he’d have the will to continue. 

Zuko crumbled then, the crankiness of no sleep, the hiding it for the kids’ sakes, the never-ending anxiety, the fears of losing his wife to another man, the thought of losing the intimacy he thought was only his in raising a child with her, and the worst icing on the cake: the death of his cousin’s son. Zuko couldn’t take it anymore and he broke into a sob. He wore the mittens Katara knitted for him on his birthday years ago to cover his face as his shoulders shook and he muttered apologies. He felt selfish. 

Zuko reeled himself in enough, and looked at her, taking her hand again. “I promise the children are safe. Pakku is with them. I would never let them be harmed– I would never let you be harmed either, Kat,” Zuko promised, his hand placed over where his chest scar resided under layers and layers of clothing. “That’s why you have him, Tonraq… we’ll protect _Hakoda_.”

 


	38. Chapter 38

She couldn’t bring herself to say a word. The entire sleigh ride, Katara sat back in silence, staring straight ahead while squeezing the life from Zuko’s hands. The palace couldn’t come into sight quickly enough, and _gods above,_ she just wanted to be held, but there was no one to pull her in tight. 

Her tears had frozen to her cheeks by the time the sleigh stopped in the courtyard. 

Katara lept from it, leaving Zuko behind. She ran inside, blowing past guards and servants who asked about her absence, and burst into the playroom where her children all sat. Pakku was reading them a story— Noatuck the Brave. 

Four sets of eyes went wide with excitement. Pakku closed the book, and as if with the cover thumping shut, the children burst to their feet and slammed into their mother. 

_“ **Mama!** ” _The clamourous shout resounded off the palace’s walls. To Katara, there was nothing better. 

She dropped to her knees in front of them, pulled all four in tight as she could. Katara rained kisses on their cheeks, their lips, and their heads. The kids, of course, took it as the greatest offense, staged an attacked, and dog-piled her to the floor, but Katara couldn’t have cared less. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” Kya lifted her hand and clutched her mother’s wet cheek. 

Her siblings took notice, creating a ruckus of _what’s the matter_ ’s and _why are you sad’_ s. Katara shook her head and smiled at them. 

“Nothing, my loves. I’m just so happy to see you,” she said. She found some purchase and sat up, pulling Iroh into her lap with one hand. The other toyed with Kya’s curls, then she brushed Ursa’s arm and grabbed Hakoda’s hand. “I missed you all like you wouldn’t believe.” 

* * *

Zuko was profoundly sad. His heart felt like it was a sinking ship in icy waters, and he was a passenger struggling to breathe. Katara didn’t say a word to him, and it only added to his anxieties and worries about what else had gone on in that hut with Tonraq, if old feelings were resurfacing. After all, she’d _chosen_ Tonraq, and that was only the half of what he knew. 

Zuko slowly and despondently followed his wife out of the sled, walking almost like a zombie to the foyer, and the only thing that yanked him up and out of his broken trance was the reunion before him. He smiled, a comforting, warm feeling filling his heart. His children were safe, his wife was safe, and no one was a better or more loving mother than Katara. He counted his blessings every night that his children had such a great woman to look up to and to raise them. 

He laughed, despite his heartache, when they tackled her, having missed her so. He too knelt down to see them, opening his arms wide as they moved to their second choice after smothering their mother with love, and being suffocated back in the same. 

Looking at each one of them made him think of his cousin, and how easily one of his own could be dead. It made his heart shatter, and Zuko struggled to appear strong before his kids. But, there was only so much he could do. The kids would have to know, sooner or later, that their cousin was dead. Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to hide how he died. He didn’t want them afraid in their own country, their own home. He didn’t even want to think of the emotional pain that awaited them knowing that their own people rejected them so because of their element that their mother was forced to have a baby with someone new– and that was the only one permitted on the throne. 

Zuko looked at Katara, and their gazes met, and he sent her an encouraging smile, but his eyes were incredibly melancholic. He could never hide the look in his eyes– and Katara was better at reading him than anyone else. He darkly wondered if she could read Tonraq in the same way– could Tonraq just look at her, too, and know? Did Katara gaze at Tonraq, the way Zuko always thought was just for him? Did she cradle his face in her hands in bed, kiss him slowly, and meet his eyes with that tender, loving look, too? Zuko feared he was never anyone that special at all. But, he kept her gaze because, no matter what, for better or for worse, sickness and in health, richer or poor, as long as they both would live– she would be to him.

* * *

It was too hard to look at her husband. Even with the happy laughter of the children, the love pouring from them, a dark stain spread across her heart. He’d never look at her the same, would he? He’d always have _that_ in his eyes, that radiating sadness, that ability to make her feel ashamed. She didn’t love Tonraq, or feel anything for him really, but she’d let herself be touched and found a place of bliss within it all.

She deserved Zuko’s quiet loathing, didn’t she? It didn’t matter that she was only trying to protect her family from exactly this. She’d hurt him. Somewhere deep down, her thoughts told her it’d be a miracle if Zuko even stayed. 

Katara swallowed. Her cheeks were quickly heating and her eyes were filling. She let her gaze fall away, her attention landing on the squirming toddler in her lap, then drifting to each of her kids.

“We, um…” She didn’t where to start. “Children, your father and I will need you all to pack for a trip to the Fire Nation. Can you do that? Can you be ready to go by tonight? We’ll take Druk.”

An excited shout went up from Kya and Ursa,  "Ember Island?!“

Their eyes were so bright, it was almost impossible to tell them the truth. “No… We’re going to the capitol.” Katara said, licking her lips. “Something’s happened to your cousin, Arnook. Uncle Lu Ten and Aunt Yue need us, and Grandpa Iroh will love seeing all your faces.”

Though their faces scrunched in mild disappointment, the children seemed to take her answer in stride. They were young, after all, with Kya and Ursa barely being seven. Katara didn’t have the heart to tell them anymore, anyway, so she was happy with the twins took little Iroh and wandered back to Pakku to hear more of the story.

Hakoda, however, wore a solemn expression, one far beyond his nine years of experience. He looked between his mother and father, his voice serious. “Mom? What happened?”

“Your cousin… Arnook…” Katara breathed in deeply, letting it go in rush. "He was… He died, my love.“

Tears pebbled in the boy’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks for his friend and cousin. His voice was so soft. “Why, Mama?”

“Oh, snowflake.” Katara caught him as he stumbled into her arms. She couldn’t find the words to answer him. She wanted to shelter him from the horrors of the world and the weight his element would surely place on his shoulders. She’d only add to it, with a new child meant to pass him for the throne, but Katara could only hope he’d understand some day. This was why; her child would be safe.

* * *

They were all so innocent, as were Lu Ten and Yue’s children. They were children, after all. Zuko’s eyes blurred over with tears, and his gaze met the floor when they sounded so incredibly elated, not knowing how painful this journey would be for them, too. They were still excited as they trotted back to Pakku, but Hakoda was always perceptive, and he was older, too. He knew something wasn’t right, and when his wife broke it to him, Zuko nearly shattered. 

He watched Katara hold him close, and it broke his heart further. Zuko knelt at his son’s level beside Katara who was cradling Hakoda in her arms while the little boy cried. He put a hand on his son’s back, trying to comfort him. It wasn’t fair– none of this was fair. It was demented to think someone murdered a child, simply because of the element they bend, something completely out of anyone’s control but the Spirits. 

The same scared him for his children. 

Zuko kissed Hakoda’s head, and looked up at his wife– her eyes glazed with fresh tears as well. Zuko let his eyes flutter shut, and a tear rolled from the unscarred one. 

He whispered, “Another mountain.”

* * *

“Yeah,” Katara whispered, taking the shot straight to the heart. She didn’t look at him when repeated his words, “Another mountain.”

Her stomach sank like a rock, but she kept her lips pressed together. Katara refused to let her personal hurts show. It’d only be incredibly selfish of her to say she hated that phrase. It’d be cruel and wrong and near-sighted to say she was tired, that she wanted to rest in his arms. It’d be silly of her to ask if he wanted to rest, too, if he wanted to hold her and comfort her, because, by his statement, Zuko made it obvious he didn’t want her. He wanted to keep climbing, _away from her?_

She had to be strong, like she was when they first married, and resentment boiled in her veins. Like she was when her father died, and she’d buried herself in work to avoid burdening Zuko with her pain. Like she was when the council pressed her and Pakku approached her and she left the palace with Tonraq for that little, private hut. She’d wall up the pain, push it down. Her family needed that.

Katara didn’t meet Zuko’s gaze, but she addressed him hesitantly. “I- I’m going to help Hakoda get ready.” The boy was still in her arms, so Katara struggled to her feet and hitched him on her hip. “Do you… want to do the others kids? Or you can… go get Druk ready…”

She shrugged, her body trembling slightly. Hakoda buried his face in her neck and Katara pressed her lips to his hair. “Okay, sweetie. It’s okay,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say. Her own tears were starting to fall, too.

Katara hugged him tighter and left the playroom. It wasn’t far to Sokka’s old bedroom, but between the doorways, she very nearly collided with a breathless, worried Tonraq.

“Hey,” he broke from his quick pace, stopping in front of her. "I just dropped your bag off with your servant. Zae, I think.“ Tonraq threw a glance over his shoulder, looking for the girl. "Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

She bit her lip. A part of her felt guilty for even answering him. “No.”

“I’m so sorry, Katara. I can’t even… and Zuko, is he—” Tonraq ran his hands back into his hair. His eyes slipped over her shoulder, then widened. "Zuko. Prince Zuko, sir.“ The waterbender offered a slight bow.

“I was just telling your wife,” he started. "I’m so sorry for your loss. Truly. I can’t imagine what both of you are feeling… I lost my brother when he was eight to a surprise air raid. We were ten years apart, but we were still close. It was _devastating,_ the worst feeling in the world.“

Tonraq shook his head, then reached out and put a hand on Zuko’s arm. “If you need anything, or your uncle… Well, it’s Katara’s place to speak for the Navy, but I’m behind you. Just ask.”

“Your fastest ship, actually,” Katara said, “and your best crew.”

“Of course.”

“We’re taking Druk. He’ll get us there before any ship could, but I’ll be leaving Caldera before my family to ensure the council doesn’t try anything in my absence. I want them to have a swift journey back, and I will only trust _my_ ships and _my_ menwith that.”

“I understand, Chieftess.” Tonraq nodded, already letting go of Zuko and moving around the couple. “I’ll go the shipyard right away. Travel safe.”

* * *

Zuko’s heart was breaking in his chest. Katara was walling him out, and he felt like he was suffocating. He was drowning in doubts, and just wanted to hold her. She looked so sad, too. Zuko hated seeing Katara looking like she’d break. He wanted to go to her, but when he took to, she’d already turned to ready Hakoda. Zuko wanted to knock this wall down before it grew too high, and Tonraq was standing on her side, and he was on the other. 

He went to get his other children ready for this horrible, long journey. But, Zuko was stopped in his tracks at the sight of Tonraq. It made his skin turn red with anger. He knew it was immature and irrational, the man was nothing but nice, but Zuko wanted nothing more than to punch him in his pretty face. He scowled at him while he spoke, and didn’t reply while he listened to him agree to follow Katara. The man clearly loved Zuko’s wife. 

Tonraq promised to respect their vows. Katara said she’d only pick someone who would. He didn’t want to tell Katara that he didn’t feel like Tonraq did because clearly she was more than comfortable with the guy– and as much as it bothered him– he’d rather that than uncomfortable. He didn’t want her feeling upset. 

It took every ounce of strength Zuko had not to clock the man in the jaw as he put his hand on his arm like he gave a shit about him, like he wasn’t just in his wife, like he didn’t just walk in on him with his face in between Katara’s legs. Like he didn’t know he had an ulterior motive for following them. Zuko didn’t know if it was just jealousy, of Tonraq was truly insincere in his intentions and only after Katara. 

“Have a nice trip, Tonraq,” Zuko muttered flatly, trying to dismiss him as quickly as possible.

He looked at Katara then, wanting to comfort her, and smiling at his son sadly. The boy looked just as broken. When Zuko smiled at him- the boy broke down again, and Zuko melted in heartbreak. “Ohh, Hakoda,” Zuko whispered, going to him, and wiping away his tears. “Shhhh, shhh, turtle duck, shhh,” Zuko murmured, kissing his forehead. “Arnook is with the Spirits– you can still feel him with you, like your Grandpa Hakoda, just pray to the Spirits,” Zuko assured him, but his own voice wavered. He was so furious that the little boy was murdered and gone. 

Zuko tried to bury that as he kissed his son’s head, lingering a moment. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise,” Zuko murmured. “Daddy and Mommy love you, okay?” he assured him, then ruffling his hair, and looking at Katara with sad, but soft, affectionate eyes full of years of strengthened, unconditional love. “I love _you_ , too.”

* * *

_Agni._ How could three words be so sweet? A jolt of relief shot through her. In a way that was almost instinctual, Katara reached out for his hand, locking her fingers with his. They were warm; he was warm. This what she missed.

Katara looked up at her husband with wide, wanting eyes. If she just leaned in, if she only pressed up on her toes and kissed him… maybe, they’d find some semblance of unity again, intimacy. As her thoughts wondered, her heart leeched disbelief. She was afraid to trust him. 

_Is there any way he could really love me?_

She blinked, sending fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. She looked away, took back her hand, and held Hakoda close. All Katara could manage was a quiet, “Do you?” 

Katara stole a glance. Zuko seemed… earnest. His were soft and welcoming, through rimmed with red and tears. They could all be for Arnook. Or, some could be for her. Did he think she’d fallen out of love with him? _La,_ the things she wanted to say, the words she kept behind tight lips. 

She was wary of him. He could hurt her. _Badly._ He could leave her, take her kids.She’d kept her promises. The sex was sex. It meant nothing. Her thoughts and dreams had whirled around him, around wishes to be back with him. But, how could she tell Zuko that? How could she say to him that she loved him, that her soul would always be his, after what he’d seen? 

_“La,_ Zuko, you weren’t supposed to see that,” Katara said it aloud. Hakoda was still on her hips. She held him tight and tucked his head under her chin. She didn’t want him to worry, despite her stress.

“But, you did,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and low. “Would you trust me if I said it was all physical? Would you believe that? Would you take me at my word that the private, intimate things we share— our kisses, our bed, our laughter and stories— did not make their way into that hut? The things that we hold sacred… they still are. I swear it.” 

* * *

Zuko inched closer to his wife, cupping her cheek as tears fell from her bright, blue eyes. He brushed away her tears, his face scrunched in concern as he shook his head. “Agni, Kat, _of course_ I mean it. Of _course_ I love you,” he emphasized to Katara. “I’ll always love you– _always_ ,” he promised, swallowing thickly. 

Zuko let out a shaky breath as Katara mentioned what he walked in on. “No… I- I know… I know I wasn’t supposed to– I should’ve… I just… I figured it wasn’t happening that much, but if you’re trying to get pregnant, then of course…” Zuko rambled, shaking his head. “I panicked,” Zuko explained. “I read the letter, and nothing mattered anymore,” he elaborated. “I’m sorry I barged in… I wasn’t thinking. I just… fuck, Katara, I wanted you so bad,” he whispered. “I needed you. I didn’t know what to do, and I rushed over, and just… all but bust down the door, and I’m sorry. I should’ve waited for you to answer– I’m _sorry_ ,” he murmured. 

Zuko’s eyes watered as Katara spoke of everything precious to them, all their intimacies. His lip quivered, and he pulled her and their son in close, enveloping them in an embrace. Zuko rested his cheek against Katara’s, wrapped his hand around her back, and placed his other on Hakoda’s, rubbing his hand against each of them in comfort. 

“It just hurt- it hurt enough to think of it, and then to see it…” he whispered in her ear. “I trust you, Kat… you’ve never, ever given me a reason to doubt you. It’s just when I’m alone… my doubts get the better of me, and they eat me alive until I can’t sleep,” he whispered. “But, I want you to be okay. I don’t– I don’t want you to be upset when you’re with Tonraq… I know this is for your tribe, and… your tribe is bigger than me… bigger than us.”

* * *

She all but buckled at the knees when Zuko pulled her into his embrace. It was exactly what she needed, to be held close and offered forgiveness, to be told she was loved no matter what. Katara buried her face in his neck, her lips barely brushing his skin, and listened to him. His voice was a low timbre that wrapped her heart and soothed her soul. For the first time since leaving, she felt like she’d found peace.

“I love you so much,“ Katara said. She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she breathed in the familiar scent of cinnamon and light soap. “And, I know this is important. I know it’s about my tribe… I just don’t want us to suffer for it.”

Katara lifted her gaze, meeting his. Her cheeks were wet and red. Her chest ached with suppressed sobs. She wanted nothing more than to collapse with him, to hide away in their bed until the regret and shame left her veins. Too many people needed them: their kids, their country, the Fire Nation.

She made a fist in Zuko’s tunic, holding him close for a moment longer. Then, Katara let go, fearing he’d slip away from her now that he was free of her grasp. She tried to calm herself with a deep breath.

“We should go. We have to get ready to leave,” Katara finally said, swallowing her emotions for the moment. “There will be time to talk… I don’t know… whenever we’re back. We can talk. Or fight. Whatever you want.”

Katara looked down at her feet. “I love you,” she affirmed. "I didn’t think of anyone but you. You were my one and only when I left, Zuko, and you still are. You’re all I want, your warm hands and your kind eyes. Your laugh, your smile, your touch….“

"If I close off from you, please know it has nothing to do with you. I’m just—” She sighed, adjusting Hakoda again. “—it was hard, going through with that. If I have to do it again… Remember that I love you and only you.”  

* * *

Zuko relished in her words, trying to engrave them into his mind. Katara loved him, and only him– not Tonraq. He repeated the words in his head like a prayer, as if they were the only thing that’d keep him afloat. The words seemed like it too, a life raft among a tsunami at sea. Zuko wanted to beg and plead with her not to shut herself off from him. His heart could not handle such a torture this time around. He needed her strength so badly. 

But, she pulled apart to go help Hakoda pack, and Zuko grabbed her by the wrist gently, and kissed her. “I’ll see you in a bit,” Zuko whispered, squeezing her hand, and going off to help the rest of their children pack. About an hour later, Zuko was down with the girls hanging from his back, and Iroh in his arms, and bags hanging from them. 

Zuko placed them all down with a weary grunt, laughing wearily as he shook the kids off, laughing with his wife as he did, catching his breath. “Your kids,” he teased, a common joke he shared with her, back-and-forth, but his breath caught in his throat when he realized that’d no longer be a joke for the next child. It’d be her kid, not his. Zuko looked away quietly then, and his gaze darkened to a glare when Tonraq returned. 

Zuko didn’t want this man near his kids, thinking he had any right to seeing them– or parenting them, or anything of the sort. Zuko didn’t want him to live here, he didn’t want him replacing him any more than he already was. He didn’t even see why the guy had to come. Did he think Katara was his wife, too, now? Why was he going to Zuko’s country to see Zuko’s family with them? In this delicate time of grief?

“Tonraq, I think your men are waiting for your lead at the docks.”

* * *

“Yes, sir, they are. I am waiting for the Chieftess’s lead,” Tonraq’s eyes slipped from Zuko to Katara, “before my men and I depart.” He brought a hand to his mouth and cleared his throat before looking at Zuko again. 

“If I may speak plainly, Prince Zuko, I can sense a certain amount of dislike and distrust for me and I understand your feelings. The actions of the council have created a troublesome situation for you and your wife…” 

Katara’s expression moved to one of surprise. If the dislike and distrust weren’t palpable before, they were now. Zuko’s stance tightened and even Tonraq, who hardly ever left a position of ease and confidence, seemed tense. His fingers twitched at his sides.

She quickly shooed the kids away, telling them to play until the adults were ready. A part of her wanted to leave, too. Men could be… _men._ Maybe these two needed a fist fight to sort out their jealousies— that was exactly why Katara sighed and stayed. 

“Sir, I have followed and will continue to follow Chieftess Katara’s lead. I only do as she asks, as she tells me,” Tonraq said. “If she hadn’t called on me, I would not be here. If she hadn’t _insisted_ she needed me, I absolutely wouldn’t have joined her in that hut. But, she asked me, Prince Zuko, and as my Cheif, as someone I love, I could not say no.”  

He paused, pulling in a deep breath like the confession had lifted a weight off his chest. His voice became throaty, “I want you to understand that _because_ I love her, you can trust me. I know she loves you. You’re all she wants. I respect and honor that. Katara’s well-being and Katara’s future within our Tribe are my only focus in this.” 

“The spirits chose you for her, Prince Zuko. We were all there; we all watched Chief Hakoda bless you on the last day of your wedding ceremony,” Tonraq stated. “You were marked as sacred, as irreplaceable… to Katara and _the Tribe_. The council may have forgotten who gave them life, but I am not a man to oppose the spirits for something so frivolous as unrequited feelings.” 

Tonraq pressed his lips together, his face strong. Katara still knew him well enough to catch the flicker of sadness in his gaze. Her eyes eventually flicked away when he looked at her, and then Tonraq bowed and left, making way for the docks.

In his absence, Katara moved her touch down Zuko’s arm and grabbed his hand. “He’s right, my love, even if you don’t want to believe it. Out of all the men and women I’ve been with, Tui and La ordained _you_ for me. They saw _you_  as the one who’d complete me, who’d honor me and uplift me. The spirits are never wrong.” 

She reached up and cupped his chin, resting her fingers delicately against his ivory skin. Katara wore a small smile. She hoped he’d see it as reassurance. She loved him, and only him. 

“I know you’re upset, Zuko. You have every right to be angry and jealous. But please don’t be worried that he’ll steal me away. Please don’t be afraid that you’ll lose me… no matter what happens, that’s not possible.” 

* * *

Zuko listened to Tonraq, anger boiling in his stomach. How dare he? How dare he say he was in love with Zuko’s wife? Right in front of him? He covered it up with things about the Spirits and respect, but Zuko caught it– he’d never forget it. His suspicions were confirmed. Not only was this man fucking the love of his life, he was in love with her, too. That made him all the more wary of Tonraq, not more accepting. Zuko said nothing as the man stood there, looking at him, doing what? Trying to console him? He only ever did that when Katara was conveniently present. He was trying to show off, and thought Zuko was too stupid to be any the wiser.

He was glad when he was gone, and melted back to reality when Katara linked their hands. His eyes were glossy still, thinking about how Tonraq loved Zuko’s wife. But, his wife only loved one of them. Zuko smiled as Katara cupped his cheeks, and he let his eyes flutter shut, even as a tear rolled free. Zuko leaned in and kissed Katara, then left his head on her forehead, meeting her soft gaze. 

Zuko put his hands on her waist, and squeezed her possessively, but gently, then pulled her into an embrace. He held her close, lingering in the way she felt in his arms. Zuko had longed to hold her the entire time she was away, to know she was still his to hold. His voice was lower than a murmur, his lips to her ear so only she would hear, “I just want you to hold me tonight, Kat. That’s all I want.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if names and shit of minor, minor OCs don't match what we said before... it's way too much work to go through the fic and figure out where one of us mentioned the person.

After brief goodbyes with Kanna and Pakku, the family departed from the Southern Water Tribe on the back of Druk. Despite the weight of two adults and four children, the dragon made a swift journey to the Fire Nation, landing within Caldera’s towering, black edges late on the second night. The ship that carried their luggage and the men to return Zuko and the children home safely would arrive in a few days, but that wasn’t a concern on anyone’s mind. 

The weary family slid down from Druk’s back. Katara collected baby Iroh in her arms and Zuko carried Kya, who’d resolutely remained asleep. Ursa and Hakoda trudged behind them, making the short walk into the palace with long faces and heavy steps— heavy hearts, too. 

The Fire Nation’s palace seemed dark. It was nighttime, so there was the physical absence of light, but something about the place was… empty, _forsaken._ The guards let them pass after catching a glimpse of Zuko and Katara felt a shiver run down her spine in the ghoulish moonlight. It cast long, shapeless shadows across the marbled, red floors, made the space seem hollow. 

She tried to ignore it, putting on her brave face. Her family needed her strength, as did Lord Iroh, Lu Ten, and Yue. The latter greeted them with a sad smile, her blue eyes quickly welling up. Katara caught her in an embrace. 

“My sweet sister,” she whispered, letting Yue’s tears soak her neck. “I’m so sorry. I am so, _so_ sorry.“ 

* * *

Zuko’s heart shattered when he entered the Fire Nation palace. It was already riddled with horrible, childhood memories, but that paled in comparison to the way his heart was broken at the surrounding, downcast aura. It was like even the walls, the tapestry, the lamplights– they all knew a tragedy befell the nation. Zuko was afraid to see his uncle’s face, and his cousin’s. He didn’t want to see the heartbreak in them. There was nothing worse. 

It felt like he was being gutted to think little Arnook wouldn’t come running up to him anymore, and he wouldn’t be so excited to play with his cousins. His whole family would never, ever be the same. He couldn’t even fathom how his cousin and Yue were feeling, nor his uncle. Nothing in the entire world was worse than losing a child, especially to a senseless slaughter. 

Zuko walked in with Katara, and watched as Yue collapsed into her friend’s arms, and Zuko tried to smile at Lu Ten. His cousin looked twenty years older. His expression seemed lifeless and depleted. He looked like he’d given up on the whole world, and Zuko didn’t blame him. The only thing that likely kept him going was the thought of his other children, and his wife, and how they all needed him. Agni knew that that would be the only motivation Zuko’d have remaining. 

Lu Ten, too, rushed to Zuko, and Zuko held his cousin close. He never saw Lu Ten shatter like this, and shattered Zuko’s heart. It still didn’t entirely feel real. Zuko didn’t want it to be. He couldn’t help with anything. All he could do was hold his cousin close, and give him pointless reassurances. None of that could bring Arnook back– so none of it was any good.

* * *

Her friend looked different. The regal, stoic air that always followed Yue around was gone, replaced by red eyes and disheveled hair. She looked small in her robe, weary and broken. Her skin was sallow, like she’d died with son. 

Katara gave Zuko a look before slipping an arm around Yue’s waist and leading her and the kids to the Fire Princess’s chambers. Yue’s youngest son, Kazu, was dozing on the bed, but he perked up at the sound of his four cousins. He, at least, was able to smile. Children were resilient. 

Katara and Yue sat down on the sofa, listening to the quiet babbling of the kids while they waited for tea. The servant poured each of them a cup of chamomile. Katara mixed in sugar for Yue, then put her hand on her friend’s leg.

“How are you and Lu Ten holding together?” she asked, hushed. “Are you alright, your marriage?”

Yue scoffed. “My marriage?” Her brows knit together with a dark look Katara couldn’t read. It’d been several years since she’d seen her friend, so she couldn’t even guess at what Yue’s scowl meant. 

“It’s a farse,” Yue finally said. “We play the part for the people, but we couldn’t be more distant.” 

“I’m sure it will pass…” Katara gave her a look of empathy. “It’s the grief. People deal with it—” 

“It’s not that. He hasn’t touched me since I got pregnant with Kazu. _Two is enough_ , he said. He loves his children, but he doesn’t love me. I’m not even sure he cares for me. I’m alone… and now, I’m alone in the spiral of grief.” 

Katara stood to embrace her friend, but Yue shifted angrily. “And you know what the worst of it is? He’s not! _He has someone!_ Lu Ten brought that… that girl from the countryside, Su… the one he was in love with before he married me. I guess that love never died.” 

“He moved her into the palace two years ago, made her a part of his staff,” Yue rolled her eyes at Katara’s astonished look. “She’s supposed to wash the linens, but we all know how she’s _really_ serving him… so, he has someone. He’s not alone. He might even have an illegitimate child, but I don’t know. I don’t ask.” 

Katara sighed heavily and pet her friend’s hair. “Yue, I’m so—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she murmured. “Don’t. I know you mean well, but empty apologies won’t give me a husband who honors me, and they won’t bring my son back.” 

* * *

Lu Ten didn’t speak as he at in the foyer with a cup of tea. He stared blankly at the wall. He was all but dead inside. Zuko never saw such a vacant look in another person’s eyes. Zuko did his best to soothe his cousin, but there was really no remedy for a brokenhearted, bereaving father.

Zuko put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “Whenever you need me, Lu—“ Zuko whispered, but his cousin interrupted him with a sharp and glassy-eyed glare.

“-This is my fault,” Lu Ten snapped.

Zuko shook his head in disbelief, “No… No, Lu Ten, don’t blame yourself. I… I would, too, in your shoes, but you have to look at this from the outside—“

“No, not like I… I didn’t— What I mean is… this is punishment, from the Spirits, I’ve sinned against them,” Lu Ten whispered.

“Lu Ten, that’s silly… you haven’t done anything… nothing is horrible enough… and Arnook was the gentlest soul alive,” Zuko murmured.

“I cheat on Yue… all the time,” Lu Ten admitted, and Zuko was taken aback, and he shook his head, speechlessly.  “I’m always with Su. I have two children with her. Yue probably knows, but I’ve never told her. Su lives in the palace,” Lu Ten admitted, his stare and expression blanked, the life sucked from him.

“What…” Zuko whispered, the pain hitting him close. He knew how it felt to have your spouse bed another, have children with another. “Lu Ten… why? Why would you do such a thing? You married Yue… you—“

“I know. I know. But, I love Su. I wanted to marry her. I didn’t want to marry Yue… don’t get me wrong. She’s a nice girl, and a beautiful mother. I couldn’t ask for a better mother to my children… but the same is said for Su, and I love her… I couldn’t give up the life I promised to Su, and for it, the Spirits damned me.”

Zuko stood up, angry and hurt. “The Spirits would never, ever punish Arnook for the terrible things you’ve done,” spat Zuko. “Don’t say such a thing… and… I don’t even know what the hell to say to that. I’m disappointed, Lu Ten, more than disappointed. If times weren’t so… awful, you’d hear more from me,” Zuko shouted. “I… I have to excuse myself before I say something I regret.”

* * *

It was late, well after sundown, so Katara helped Yue take the children to Kazu’s room. The boys fit together on the bed, while Katara’s twin girls were given cushy mats to lay on in front of the low-burning hearth. Katara offered to stay with all the kids, thinking they might want some comfort, but the boys squealed and sent her away. 

She shook her head as she and Yue stepped out into the hall. “If only life was that easy as an adult…” 

“Kazu’s happy to have his cousins,” Yue replied, smiling tiredly. She slipped her arm through Katara’s and the pair started walking back to her room. “I don’t think he’s really processed that Arnook’s gone. He doesn’t understand it.” 

“He’s young… only six. I don’t know if Kya and Ursa understand it, even. Baby Iroh certainly doesn’t.” Katara looked at the floor as they walked, going silent for a bit. She didn’t want to bring up anything painful, but at the time, she wanted to know more. Fury was boiling under the surface of her skin. 

She took a breath, and approached her question delicately. “So, does Fire Lord Iroh know? About Lu Ten and Su? Is everyone here just…” 

“…okay with me being the equivalent of a figurehead?” 

Katara shrugged. 

“I assume Iroh knows. He seems to know everything that happens here,” Yue said. “He’s never mentioned it to me, though. He’s just… as kind as always, friendly, somewhat sensitive to the things that bother me.” She sighed. “He has a lot on his plate. He’s the Fire Lord, after all.” 

“And I’m a chief,” Katara argued. “I still make time to my sympathetic to my family. I just…” She scoffed under her breath. “I can’t believe he’s doing that to you. I can’t— you’re a great woman, a wonderful friend and mother. It’s _cruel.”_  

* * *

Zuko was furious on Yue’s behalf. Even if they weren’t in love, it was a matter of respect and dignity. Lu Ten should honor the mother of his children, not replace her and have an additional family. It seemed cruel and Zuko found it vile. He was furious at it– how dishonorable his cousin had been. He wondered if Uncle knew anything of it– and if he did, he couldn’t believe he’d stand for such a thing– his own son shaming them all. 

Zuko was falling apart at the seams as it was. He couldn’t bear how Katara had slept with another, and was trying to have a baby with another. But, at least Katara was reluctant, and she was open. There was no deception, or lies, and Katara had done nothing but promise him her love, and Lu Ten had done the opposite. He’d left Yue to rot while promising his love to Su. How could he do that? 

Lu Ten had no idea. He had no idea how it felt to be in another country with no one but your in-laws’ family to support you. While in the South, in the end, all Zuko had were his kids and Katara. When it boiled down to it, they’d all turn on him at the drop of a hat– all but Katara and his children. And, children were children. It’d be immoral to place any kind of heavy burden of expectation like that upon them. So really– all there was… was their spouses, in the end. They could have friends, but the trust was always wary. At least, Zuko found it that way. He had many friends, good ones, too, that he’d go out with at times, and their kids would play together. But, Zuko wasn’t sure he’d trust any of them to stand by them if war between their home nations arose. Katara, though? He would believe Katara would still stand at his side, protect him, and love him. 

If Yue didn’t have that, then she had no one, and that broke Zuko’s heart. 

He felt a solidarity with her. Both of them had been sent away to strange lands to wed as pawns in a treaty, callously tossed away by those they’d trusted and loved. They’d both married strangers, alone, in a place of assumed hatred. Now, they both had spoused who kept themselves warm beside another. Though, Yue was having a nightmare of an ending, while Zuko still had confidence his would be happy with elbow grease. Yue’s son was gone, and she had no spouse to lean on through it. At least Lu Ten had his mistress. 

Zuko was somber, his heart heavy as he wandered through the corridors he’d cried through as a child, and laughed through as a teenager. It was all so convoluted, and Zuko kept his head down as he wandered through the paradoxical palace– until he looked up, seeing his wife and Yue together. He offered them a sad smile, and bowed respectfully to Princess Yue. 

“Yue,” Zuko whispered, skipping the formality, and walking in close to them both. “I’m… it means nothing, but I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I… I can’t… I can’t fathom,” Zuko murmured, giving her arm a tender squeeze, and looking at Katara in a moment of joint sympathy for the woman. “If there’s anything we can do… literally, anything… don’t… don’t hesitate. We’re here for you… we’re still _family_.”

* * *

Katara linked her fingers with Yue’s and met her husband with a gentle smile. “I invited her to stay with us for a while,” she said, quickly drumming a reason that wouldn’t give too much of Yue’s heartache away. “It’s difficult being here, for her and Kazu. Somewhere familiar may help.”

“I miss the snow,” Yue agreed, almost eagerly. Her eyes had lit up when Katara suggested she come to the South. “You probably think I’m crazy for that, Prince Zuko, but… the cold, it’s home. And I couldn’t go to the North. My father would coddle me, protect me. I don’t want that.” 

“You don’t have to explain it, friend. You’re welcome to spend as much time as you want with us. We have the room.” Katara squeezed Yue’s hand. “And, you can rest assured that Kazu will be safe there.” 

“Thank you, Katara,” Yue nodded, but with her affirmation, tears formed in her eyes and she looked away. Her lashes fluttered rapidly, fighting the urge to cry. 

Katara knew exactly what that was like, what it felt like: the aching cheeks, the burning eyelids, the throb in her chest. She’d always bite her lip when it began to tremble and she did so now, feeling Yue’s grief like it was her own.

She wondered if Zuko had thought about it, if he’d had the moment to sit back in the quiet and really understand why she’d given in to her council. Arnook could’ve been Hakoda. She could’ve lost her son. To her, it was worth the shame, the regret, the way Zuko looked at her— like she’d broken a piece of his soul— if it meant her son’s life would never be at risk.

Katara sought out her husband’s gaze, an apology within her own, when Yue broke the silence.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” she murmured. “It’s late and…” Yue trailed off, nothing more to say. The Princess hugged Katara tight, then gave Zuko’s bicep a squeeze. “If you haven’t seen your uncle, he’s likely still in the harbor. My father’s ship is due tonight, but I think he’ll understand that I can’t stay awake. Goodnight, to both of you… and thank you so much for coming.”

* * *

Zuko nodded along with his wife, assuring Yue she was welcome whenever, and for as long as she wanted. Zuko understood the need for distance from such harsh memories, and away from her husband’s infidelity and marked affairs all over these walls. When Yue walked away somberly, Zuko let out a shaky sigh. 

The palace felt so empty without little Arnook’s laughs and squeals. It made Zuko want to fall to pieces, and he felt selfish, but he just kept worrying what if this had happened to Hakoda? The mere thought made Zuko wrap his arm around Katara’s waist, pulling her in close, and kissing her temple. He couldn’t bear to lose his children, nor could he bear to lose his wife. The thought shook him to his core. He was mortified of the reality of it. 

“My heart is broken for them,” whispered Zuko, especially thinking of Yue, as he rubbed Katara’s side in absentminded affection as his eyes clouded over. “None of this feels real…” he admitted quietly, somberly. He didn’t want to let Katara go, and he tugged her into an embrace. 

“I’m _afraid_ for Hakoda, Kat…”

* * *

“Hakoda will be alright. He has us,” Katara said. She rested her cheek on Zuko’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. “I’d do anything to protect him… you know that. I know you would, too, but hopefully—” 

She trailed off. It felt wrong to finish her sentence, given her hope was a waterbending child by another man, an heir she’d never have to fear for. Katara thought Zuko understood that, but she didn’t want to risk a fight if he still didn’t, if he was still angry. It’d only been three days since she’d returned from that hut, and they hadn’t had a moment of peace of solitude yet. 

Katara sighed, then pressed a kiss to Zuko’s covered chest and lifted her head. Her eyes were heavy and sad when they met his. She rubbed at them with the back of her fist before finding his hand.

“Do you want to go bed?” she asked, hoping he’d say yes. All of her wanted to lay in the warmth of his arms. “Or, we can wait up for your uncle…” 

* * *

Zuko felt it was wrong, but he just wanted Katara right now. After all he’d heard from Lu Ten about what he’d done to Yue, he just wanted his own wife. His heart was broken, and he just wanted to rest. “We’ll see Uncle in the morning… I’m sure he’s tired as well, and has to show Arnook to his chambers,” Zuko replied softly, his hand gently stroking Katara’s back, his stomach in knots. 

He wrapped his arm around Katara’s back, and walked with her towards their guest room. When he lit the lamps, and the fireplace, it still seemed dark and cold. The whole palace just reminded him of death, loss, and sadness now. He was thinking of his mother… she was murdered here, his grandfather was murdered here, and his father was murdered here, and now he had his little cousin to ass to the list. The whole palace was just death. 

Zuko pulled his robes off, and lazily strew them on the ornate chair, kicking off his boots, and remaining in his pants. Zuko pulled his crown piece from his hair, and tugged out his topknot, letting his hair tumble free. It’d been so long since he’d worn his hair in his home’s style. He was used to the ponytails and braids of the Water Tribe, now. Zuko tugged aside the covers, and sat on the edge of the bed with a deep sigh, looking up at Katara brokenly. 

“Lu Ten…” Zuko spoke, shaking his head, “I hate to speak badly of him… he’s my cousin, and I love him, and he’s going through hell, but… he’s putting Yue through worse, Kat. I’m glad she’s coming with us… on top of all this horrible grief she has… Lu Ten has a mistress– and _children_ with the mistress. I don’t even know if Yue knows, but… it’s so _wrong_.”

* * *

Katara pressed her lips together and nodded, her eyes flicking away. “I know… Yue told me. Well—” she glanced at Zuko, then the floor. Her fingers dug into her temples. “—she doesn’t know about the children. She has her suspicions, though.” 

She ran her hands up into her hair, tangling her fingers in the loose curls. She’d forgotten that it wasn’t in her typical braid. The ends snarled at her shoulders as Katara tried to comb it down with her palms. Eventually, she gave up, and simply threw her hair back and tugged the simple pin from the top of her head. 

Rubbing her scalp with a low hum, Katara perched on the opposite side of the bed, her back to her husband. “I can’t even fathom it,” she whispered. “Losing a child, not having a single soul to lean on… I don’t know how Yue hasn’t gone crazy. Maybe she’s stronger than all of us. I’d be breaking apart.” 

Oh, the irony of that statement. It hit Katara like a boulder barreling down a hill as she undressed. Wasn’t she doing to Zuko what Lu Ten had done to Yue? Wasn’t she wrecking him, just the same? Katara dumped her boots on the floor, then stripped from her tunic and pants, left in her bindings. She tried to tell herself it was different— she didn’t love Tonraq, she didn’t want him, it was all out of necessity… But, wasn’t her husband breaking?

Katara swallowed and looked over her shoulder. Zuko was undressed except for his loose pajama pants. His pale skin glowed in the low light, and his eyes caught the fire in a way that made the gold dance. He was always handsome, but right then, with his soulful stare and the haunted way he watched her, Katara thought she’d never seen a more beautiful man. 

Overwhelming love filled her chest. She wanted him, only him. She wanted to be near him and held by him, kissed and touched. Katara shifted slowly, like a spooked deer being hunted. One glare, one sigh, one hitch in his breath and she’d dart away with wounded pride. 

But, Zuko didn’t move, not when she reached the middle of the bed and not when she slipped a knee over his hips, coming to straddle him. Katara flattened her hands on his toned stomach, fingertips tapping nervously. Her eyes drifted up him, over his chest and shoulders and the way his hair fanned out on the pillow. 

“We don’t have to,” she breathed, her implication all but obvious, “but, _gods_ , do I need you.” 

* * *

Zuko was surprised when his wife climbed over him, but welcomed her touch. He was relieved that she wanted him. Despite being with Tonraq, she wanted him. Zuko smiled softly, placing his hands on her hips, “Come here,” whispered Zuko as she leaned in closer, pressing her forehead against his. 

Zuko cupped her cheeks, smiling at her before capturing her lips against his own. His eyes fluttered shut with a relieved sigh. He didn’t know how long it would be until Katara touched him like this. He didn’t know if it’d be permitted until she was pregnant, but he was glad that she was close, kissing him back. Her lips were soft and tasted sweet, and she smelled still of freshly fallen rain and light perfume. 

His hands skimmed her back affectionately drawing her in close as she pressed against him, making him moan slightly. “I want you, Kat.”


	40. Chapter 40

The ease she felt with Zuko was drastic and overwhelming. Katara first noted that her heart rate didn’t spike, not in a sick way, at least. Her breath was slow and content, low moans whispering in it. Her fingers didn’t tremble with anything but anticipation. Her skin didn’t crawl at the feel of his.  

Katara was able to savor him: the hint of sugar from his tea, the fire that always seemed to linger on his tongue. She ran her hands up his stomach, tracing curves of muscle and the groves between. Her fingers tickled across his chest, then threaded into his hair as she let her weight fall on him and deepened the kiss.

She’d missed him. She’d already admitted that, but the private feeling and the physical need unfurling in her stomach were two entirely different beasts. Nothing had been the same since that day she told him; they’d hardly even touched, not like this. Two weeks she’d gone without any real intimacy and now that she had it, Katara was starving.

She kissed him eagerly, coaxed his lips apart and sought out his tongue. His breath mixed with hers, hot and quick. Katara sighed, grinding her hips down on his. In return, Zuko wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer, meeting her subtle movements with thrusts of his own.

“La… _Zuko.”_ Katara broke their kiss, keeping her forehead against his. Her mouth hung open, her breathless gasps turning to quiet whimpers.

Zuko was already hard beneath her, and growing harder. She could feel the ridges of his cock through his pants, through her bindings, which were damp with arousal now. Katara rolled her hips quicker; she trembled above him, moaning his name with a needy sigh.

“Fuck. _Fuck…_ I’m gonna—” The climax hit her suddenly, like a violent, rushing wave. It made her body spasm and her fingers tighten in Zuko’s hair. Katara crooned loudly, clinging to her husband, all the while rocking through the ebbs of pleasure and release.

As the bliss faded away, her skin flushed a faint shade of pink and sweat made her limbs glisten.  She sat up, looking down at Zuko with too wide of a smile. “I… _wow,”_ Katara laughed shyly. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that quickly… well done,” she teased, before her smile softened.

Katara bent forward again, kissing Zuko’s cheeks, then his nose. Her mouth found his, stealing a long, slow embrace. She worked the bindings around her breasts loose, then pulled Zuko’s hands up from her waist to her chest, moaning her approval when he cupped her possessively.

She broke away again, liking the way Zuko’s eyes flashed as they drifted down her frame. “I love the way you look at me. It’s like it’s the first time you’re seeing me,” Katara said, blushing. “You make me feel beautiful, Zuko.”

* * *

Zuko smirked at her, proud of himself that he was able to have her come undone so quickly. He was sure Tonraq couldn’t do that. He’d never know her as well as Zuko did. He smiled with a warm laugh, his cheeks pink, and his body trembling with want and lust. He hadn’t had any intimacy with her since she told him of Tonraq– and he’d been craving her touch, her closeness. 

Zuko sat up, and pushed her back against the elegant bedspread. The comforter was coated in silk, one thing he liked about the palace. It was so hot, and they’d squandered taxes so frivolously before that every bed was made up of silk. It felt cool and refreshing against the skin, and Zuko pinned his wife’s wrists against it, hovering over her with a smile. 

“Good,” he finally replied, leaning in to kiss her lips, trailing his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and down to her breasts, taking the mound of flesh into his mouth, his hand ensuring the other didn’t go neglected. 

“Because you are,” he whispered. “You’re gorgeous, Katara… inside and out,” he murmured, his hand trailing down her skin as his lips carefully followed, teasing her down her chest, and her stomach, and around her thighs, and then back up again, making his way to her lips, his chest panting in anticipation. 

Zuko leaned his forehead against hers, leaning in to deepen a kiss once more as his hand worked to tug down her bindings, and he coaxed her to pull off his pants. Zuko kept kissing her, pushing her mouth apart delicately as he teased her, grinding against her, eager to slip inside her. But, he stalled– too. 

Something nervous furled inside his belly. As he kissed her skin, his head filled with visions of Tonraq doing the same. His chest tightened with anxiety, rather than excitement or need. His breath was tense with nerves, not pent up longing. He tried to push it away, but all he could think of now was how only days ago, Tonraq had kissed her like this, and she’d kissed Tonraq. Days ago, her hands were in his hair, she was kissing him, she held Tonraq, she stroked Tonraq’s hair, she crooned Tonraq’s name, she smiled at Tonraq, her nails scraped down Tonraq’s back. 

Zuko felt little more than the man she was fucking on the side. Tonraq would be the main man, now. Zuko was the one on the side, the concubine, or mistress, or what have you. She was trying for Tonraq’s baby– Zuko had been belittled to the frivolous one. 

Zuko let out a trembled sigh, and tried to ignore it, but he stayed hovered over her, burying his face in her neck, but turning away when a tear fell, and he tried to cover the shake in his shoulders as he positioned himself over her. He didn’t want her to know anything was wrong. He didn’t want to ruin the moment they’d just regained after weeks. He didn’t want to lose this intimacy altogether, even if he’d been reduced to the afterthought. He’d rather be on the back burner than off the stove entirely. But still, he knew Katara knew him better than _anyone_.

* * *

Katara couldn’t imagine anything better than her husband between her legs, certainly not right then. He kissed down her chest and nibbled at her breasts, teased her with pecks along her hips bones and thighs. His eyes were a dark, molten gold every time she caught them, swimming with lust and love for her alone.

When his lips sought hers again, Katara met the embrace eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck while he tugged her bindings away. She only let go to remove his pants, which hardly made their way down his legs before his weight settled on top of her and Zuko rocked his hips into hers.

_This was better,_ she decided, being this close and this exposed to him. Katara held Zuko tight, her ankles locked around his waist, fingers in his hair. Praises and pleas rolled over her tongue, caught by his kiss. Her body practically begged him.

But, she wasn’t clueless, and she wasn’t selfish.

The second Katara felt Zuko tense, his shoulders shaking and his head turned away, she knew it was over: the moment, the evening, maybe even her marriage. She loosened her grip and placed her hands on his naked hips, then delicately pushed him away. When Katara sat up with her arms clutched to her chest, Zuko looked at her with both surprise and confusion. Her hollow gaze warned him against playing dumb.

“It’s fine, love,” Katara said, shifting away on the bed. She collected the tunic Zuko discarded earlier and pulled it on to sleep. Her smile was hesitant when she looked at him again, but Katara didn’t address it. She knew exactly why he’d stalled, and why he’d frozen.

It hurt, because deep down she wondered if Zuko would ever truly want her, again. Or would they have a marriage like that of Lu Ten and Yue? She bit her lip, trying to shrug off her worries, and sighed, “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything.”  

* * *

Zuko’s heart ached liked a knife was lodged through it. Guilt trampled him, and snatched the air from his lungs as she pulled apart. She ignored it all, like she didn’t know, like it didn’t matter. Zuko’s eyes stung, burning with repressed tears and his mind raced with unrelenting fears. He wished he could have ignored it, if only for these tender minutes. That’s all he’d need to do. It could have made all the difference. She’d likely be holding him now, instead of putting her back to him. He should have manned up– pushed it away– now, instead, he had her pushing him away. 

That was the dead last thing he would ever want. 

Zuko turned to her, putting his hand gently on her arm, trying to cajole her to look at him. “Katara, I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered. “I didn’t mean to… get like that. I didn’t want to…” he explained, rubbing her arm affectionately. “Please… talk to me,” he urged, scared to lose her from silence. He didn’t want to see their marriage break. He couldn’t lose her. She was his world, his everything, his best friend, his closest adviser, his children’s mother, his most trusted confidante, his partner. 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quietly. “I don’t know what got into me… I’m sorry, Kat,” he explained. This only heightened the anxiety that had built, and Zuko lied back on the pillow, running his hand through his hair, releasing a long and shaky exhale of breath before biting his lip. 

Zuko turned his head, looking at the back of hers. “Are you… are you sure you don’t want to talk to me?”

* * *

“I’m not sure what to talk about, love.” Katara shifted so her knees were drawn up on the bed, one arm behind her to brace her weight, and faced him. She knew it’d only be cruel of her to physically shut him out. Despite how her own heart ached, Katara met his gaze. 

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted hushedly; or, maybe she wasn’t so quiet. Maybe it was just the air around her, thick and still, loud with silence. “I don’t know what you want to hear. I know why you’re no longer comfortable being with me, though, and I’ll respect that, Zuko. I just… I don’t know how to help you feel secure.” 

Katara sighed, flopping down on the bed with a huff. Her eyes skimmed over the ceiling. She willed the ornately painted dragons to provide the answers for her husband. They were quiet; she huffed. Again. 

“What do you want to know, Zuko?” Her voice was tainted with a hint of irritation. All she wanted was to be close to him, again, and she felt like he was denying her that. “I didn’t kiss him. I didn’t hold him. We didn’t share the bed. It was like fucking a friend, even less. There was no intimacy to it, no love. It was purely for the sensations and the act.” 

She lifted onto her side. “Are you upset because I let myself enjoy it? Don’t you know that I’d never enjoy sex with another like I do with you? You’re the one I wanted! You’re the one I was thinking about!” Katara bit her lip and looked at the bedspread. Tears were forming quickly, then they fell, splattering the rich, silky red. 

“He could… Tonraq,” Katara growled his name. “He’d be inside me and I’d have my eyes closed wishing it were you. I’d say your name over and over in my head. What happened with him meant nothing, but you’re acting like it did.” 

* * *

“Katara, it’s not that I don’t feel secure,” Zuko tried to reason. “I’m just– I can’t get it off my mind,” he tried to explain, but it was hard to accurately put into words the amount of pain that was tied up in all this– especially without hurting her, or sounding like he was angry at her. He wasn’t angry, his heart just ached. He didn’t blame her, but that didn’t mean he could stop the hurting– the reassurances helped. Knowing she didn’t kiss him, or hold him, or even think of him– did ease him, but it still would hurt. 

But, the way Katara went off was like she couldn’t understand why it would hurt him. Zuko felt as though it was obvious. How couldn’t it hurt him? She was having sex with another man– repeatedly– who loved her– who she used to love– trying for a baby. And, she spoke to him as if he was doing something against her by feeling pain at this. Zuko frowned at her sentiment, his face falling to a scowl. 

“Katara!” Zuko shouted, pain laced in his voice. “What are you talking about?” he spoke, shaking his head. “Agni, Katara,” Zuko muttered, “Fucking hell… you fucked him three days ago, and– and I’m just supposed to get over it? Like that, just… because you don’t love him, that it doesn’t hurt me? I can’t help it that it hurts,” Zuko choked out. “It hurts… lying alone at night, knowing you’re there with him… having sex with him… and… you’re trying for a _baby_ with him,” Zuko tried to explain, the tears starting to fall and he began to cry through his words. 

“Fuck, and it won’t end… when you have the baby, he’ll still be there. That man who is in love with you, will be in our home, raising a child with you- my wife- the mother of my kids, and he gets to raise a family with you, too,” Zuko cried. “And, I’m supposed to just trust him… this man who has sex with my wife, and loves her,” Zuko murmured, holding his head. 

“And, I’m not angry… I’m not mad at you, and I don’t resent you– because I know why you have to. I do. I know the council depends on this, and the tribe needs it, and Hakoda needs this to be safe, but that doesn’t make it not hurt, Kat!” Zuko explained. “It makes me feel better, it does, hearing you say that it doesn’t mean a thing with him… but Spirits, Katara… it’s been three days… and I thought it’d be okay, but can I just have a few more to let it sink in better, this could go on for a year or more,” he spoke brokenly. 

“I trust you more than anything, and I believe you wholeheartedly when you tell me that it didn’t mean a thing with him… but please try to trust me when I say that I believe that- and I understand why this must be, but please… I just… I need a little patience in getting used to this whole thing,” Zuko urged. “I know this isn’t fun for you, Katara, either. I know that. I’m sorry, okay? I am. I know you don’t want this… you have to, for the tribe… just please… it just _hurts_.”

* * *

“Yeah… you’re right, I’m sorry.” Katara swallowed an angry breath and looked away. It wouldn’t do any good for her to keep arguing. Zuko was upset; he had every right to be. But, she was starting to feel like she didn’t, not to him. 

She bit down on her tongue so hard she tasted. At least, the pain was centering. She focused on the physical reaction, the pooling of saliva in her mouth and the taste of iron, rather than the lingering self-doubt and quiet fury in her veins. Katara righted herself on the bed and laid down, pulling the covers up to her chin. 

Zuko watched her. She could feel his gaze, even though she wouldn’t look at him. Katara didn’t want her face to give anything away except the slow, heavy tears she couldn’t hide. She didn’t want to fight, and she knew he did. She sensed it in the waves of heat rolling off him. 

Finally, carefully— “I’ll give you all the time you need, Zuko. I’ll let you do whatever you need. Just… let me know when you _are_ ready, and let me know if you don’t think you’ll ever be.” 

* * *

“Why would you say it like that?” asked Zuko, pain blatant in his inflection, as another tear rolled off his cheek, hanging on his chin. “Please don’t speak so… so _finitely_ , Kat,” Zuko whispered. “Of course I’ll be ready. Tonight was just… a lot. There’s too much going on… I’m sorry if I hurt you.”  The way she spoke scared him, it made his chest ache, and his stomach turn into knots. It terrified him- to think she’d never touch him again, and guilt sank in his stomach. 

“I am sorry,” Zuko told her quietly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the tears getting heavier, and he bit his lip to try to steady himself. Katara was the real person going through this, not him. And, she had the whole world on her shoulders over it, and he was making it worse. “I know this is hard,” he spoke through tears. “I know it’s just as hard for you… and I’m not making it any easier on you by acting like _this_ ,” he whispered. “You’re trying so hard to check in with me, and I’m… I’m still pouting like a spoiled dog.”

“I know I said it before, but I mean it now. I’m going to help ease this burden,” he spoke. “I– I’ll stop being so petty with Tonraq… I know he’s just here to help us too… help your tribe, his tribe– _our_ country,” he whispered. 

Zuko leaned down, and kissed her cheek, then kissed away her tears. “I love you,” Zuko whispered. “I’ll always love you,” he promised. “I’m lucky to have such a great wife, and your tribe is lucky to have such a devoted leader.”

* * *

“I love you, too. I do. I _really_ do,” she said, “but this hurts. I can’t— I’m sorry.” Katara pulled away after a moment, bitter and somewhat resentful. She’d been so happy to be _with_ him again, truly with him, in every sense: naked and exposed and close. 

She felt Zuko had stolen it from her, then further guilted her for trying to keep her grasp on the Southern Water Tribe. Didn’t he know she was the reason the treaty still stood? Didn’t he remember what she’d done for him? She’d taken her men into war for him, fought against Earth Kingdom troops for him, lost her father and challenged her council and held her marriage together despite it, _all for him._

Katara closed her eyes, shutting out the room as self-pitying tears slid down her cheeks. Although, she kept her thoughts private. Wounding him further wouldn’t lead to healing, and that was what she wanted. She willed them to be alright. _Someday. Somehow_. She just wanted to make it. 

In quiet musings, however, Katara doubted they ever would if she continued with Tonraq. Zuko might promise to stop with his petty treatment of the man, but he couldn’t rid himself of his jealousy. She should tell Tonraq thank you, then let him leave the palace… and give the council’s list over to them to choose a waterbender in Tonraq’s place. 

The idea made her ill— someone she didn’t know, didn’t trust, just rutting in her until she fell pregnant. But, if it was for her husband, her marriage, she’d get over it. She’d do it. 

Katara rolled over to her side, facing Zuko as her eyes opened slowly. “I do love you,” she repeated, reaching for his hand. “I always will, no matter what.” 

* * *

Zuko could feel the tension in the air. It was heavy and thick, just like the weight on his soul. He lied down, wanting nothing more than to comfort Katara, and make sure she was all right. He wanted to pull her into his arms, and hold her until she believed him. But, for now he settled on simply holding her hand. Zuko pulled her hand up to his lips, and left a lingering kiss on the back of her hand, his thumb then smoothed over her skin, over the ring he’d given her as Fire Nation marriage tradition to signify the promise to one’s spouse. Zuko refused to be the one who let go, so he lied his head against the pillow. 

He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what else to say without igniting a fight. So, Zuko lied down, and swallowed his worries. He held Katara’s hand tightly, afraid to let go. It was only through clutching her hand that he was able to eventually drift off to sleep.

The next day was impossibly difficult. Zuko felt pathetic and indignant for thinking so much of his own worries. At least all his children were alive and well. At least Katara hadn’t thrown him out like a useless slab of meat. The funeral was painstakingly awful, and Zuko stood with his arms around his wife and children while they all cried- and little Arnook’s body was set aflame, and incense permeated everywhere. His uncle was weeping with Chief Arnook, and Lu Ten still looked dead inside, and Yue was hysterical. She was on the ground, sobbing, and it made Zuko’s chest feel severed in two. 

The funeral ended, and the rest of the world went back to their routines. It was always weird, no matter your strife, the sun rose and set, and the rest of the world carried on, while your world was shattered. Zuko knew they couldn’t stay, and he felt sick for abandoning his family as he their ship was set to leave later that night. 

For now, he sat in the foyer with his uncle and wife, sipping tea, and bringing him any comfort they could. 

“I’m just worried I will lose my other grandchildren, but… I cannot forsake the treaty,” Iroh whispered.

Zuko looked up warily at his uncle, and then his wife. 

“Uncle… perhaps Lu Ten could have a baby with another… try for a firebender, or even a non-bender… for the children’s safety,” Zuko suggested, taking Katara’s hand then. 

“What?” snapped Iroh, “My son will do no such thing! There will be no illegitimate babies on my throne– betraying the treaty that Chief Hakoda set out!” 

“Uncle… we… we were worried for our kids, too, and… the Water Tribe… they don’t want a firebender on the throne… so Kat is, she’s trying… elsewhere, to protect our children, too,” Zuko admitted. “I just– I don’t want anything else to happen to your family– our family– again.”

Iroh looked mortified, he glared at Katara fiercely, and tears flooded the old man’s eyes. “You… you did what to my nephew? You– You betrayed him? Forsook me? Your father, too? You’ve betrayed the treaty! We are supposed to mix bloodlines for the rest of time! The descendents on the throne must be of mixed blood, and you’re… whoring around? Can you not see how much my nephew loves you? And, you do _this_? I am appalled, Chieftess Katara! I feel betrayed– and I am disgusted for how you’ve thrown my nephew aside like– like he’s worthless! I am following your father’s treaty, my grandson is dead because of it, and here you are, treating my– my presentation, my gift to your country like he’s no more than _shit_!”

* * *

It happened so suddenly— The families left the funeral with weary faces and heavy hearts, opting for an afternoon of tea and peace before Katara and Zuko departed. The children were playing nearby, laughing together, while the adults sat in comfortable silence, occasionally telling a story about Arnook.

Before Katara could so much as speak, vouch for herself, Zuko was spilling secrets that weren’t his to tell and Iroh was on his feet, shouting with enough ferocity to make their glasses shake. Her eyes went wide. Her heart pounded in her chest as, first, adrenaline, then fury flooded her veins.

Katara twisted her lips into a snarl. “Your _gift_ to my country? That’s your impression of the treaty?" She spat. "What have you ever given us? Death? Blood? War? Loss? Are those the gifts of which you speak?”

She wrenched her hand from Zuko’s, too violently angry to trust herself with his fingers between his. With her other, she set her tea cup down. The water had already frozen within it, and Katara didn’t miss the layer of frost forming over Zuko’s tea as her breath came and went in a furious rush.

“I could crush you, Fire Lord Iroh.” Her eyes snapped to the man, dark and threatening. "When my father was murdered byyour niece, I wanted to. _So badly_. I wanted to unleash havoc; at least, I’d have my retribution for the death of my mother, father, brother, and childhood,“ she growled. "It’s only because of Zuko that I didn’t, because I love him, because I have children with him. _Those_ are your mixed bloodlines!”

Katara swallowed forcefully, leveling out her voice again. She was far more intimidating in a calm, calculating state. “My people have made it abundantly clear, my Lord— given the loss of their Chief to a firebender— that they will not accept a firebender on the throne. And I have not neglected my duty of listening to them."  

"But, at least, I’m forthright with it…” Katara said, a vindictive smile curving her lips. “Unlike your own son. The treaty has been null and void for years, given Lu Ten’s inability to keep his prick out of Su and remain faithful to his wife. He _has_ an illegitimate family. He's breached the vows of his marriage and the treaty, yet I still uphold the terms because my father raised me to be _honorable_ and _just.”_

“He also raised me to protect my own— my people, my family, my nation. It’s unfortunate you can’t comprehend that,” she said, standing, “because it’s brought my time here to an end. Yue?” Katara looked at her friend. “If you and Kazu are ready, Druk is waiting for us in the stables. Zuko… Tonraq and his men will take you back to the Water Tribe whenever you are ready.” 

* * *

Zuko hated the way his uncle spoke of him. He spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room, or he was a child, instead of a thirty-year-old man. Worse, Iroh spoke of him like he was a thing– a presentation, a gift. That was just how Zuko felt when his uncle sent him away. He felt like a thing, or a pawn. His uncle made him feel that way, when Katara was the one who made him always feel valued, and Zuko resented the way his uncle not only spoke of him, but his wife, more importantly. 

He scowled at his uncle, and kept quiet, allowing Katara to tell him off with a bit of pride in his chest. But, as her words went on, they hurt him a bit too. Her words of a violent desire clutched in his chest painfully, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t known. The whole thing had Zuko uncomfortable, and furious. 

But, he was glad when Katara went off about Lu Ten. He deserved that after all he’d done to her. Zuko stood when Katara gave the cue, and he was frightened of the implications of remaining here would entail. Besides, Uncle and Lu Ten had each other, and Lu Ten had Su, of course. 

“I won’t have you speaking so ill of my wife, Uncle,” spat Zuko. “You have no right to speak to her so disparagingly. I won’t have it!” he hissed, then turning to Katara. “I’m coming _**home**_ with you and the children.”


	41. Chapter 41

Because Zuko had chosen to leave at the same time as her, Katara suggested Yue and Kazu travel by ship with him. It’d take a while longer, but they’d both be more comfortable sleeping in beds and taking shelter from the wind. As for herself, she’d have to suffer through the strain of riding a dragon home; her Tribe was awaiting her return.

Katara kissed Zuko goodbye on the docks and hugged each of her children. She waited until the Water Tribe ship was fully boarded and set adrift in the bay before climbing onto Druk’s back and giving the command for him to take off. It’d be a long, lonely flight to the South, but she looked forward to seeing the snow and bundling up, rather than sweating through her clothes. Maybe the trip would soothe her temper, too.

 ///////

She landed in the South Pole a day and a half later, anger still leeching into her blood. A part of her wanted to be vindictive, to behave rashly, but Katara sobered her thoughts by thinking of her Tribe. They needed her at her best; they needed this treaty.

Perhaps she could rewrite it, offer a clause for divorce in the case of infidelity or abuse… There were other things— trade, collateral, and such— that could hold a peacetime together. Zuko would appreciate it, she thought, having the option, knowing, at least, he had some power. He wouldn’t be a prisoner to an unfaithful wife like Yue had been to her husband for the last two years. And Yue would have the chance to start over, to find happiness for herself and Kazu.

Katara resolved to bring up the idea with her council that evening. First, she wanted to bathe and rest, and maybe find something to eat while she caught up with Pakku and Gran-Gran.

 ///////

She was pleased to learn over a meal that the Tribe’s council wasn’t troublesome in her absence. Pakku had nothing but a perfectly smooth time while Katara was away. He was happy for her return, however, as he could get back to games of Pai Shao and cups of tea with Gran-Gran in his old age.

Their resilient love brought a smile to Katara’s lips, but it fell after dinner, when she sat down in her meeting room with the twelve Tribe elders and their paunchy faces. Naturally, their concerns were less for the treaty and more for her possible failure to provide an heir. _The treaty would, of course, no longer stand if you place a firebender on the throne. The people just won’t accept that._ And the chaos in the Water Tribe would only mean chaos worldwide.

Katara growled under her breath, assuring the men she was doing her best. She’d been given six months to become pregnant, after all. These things didn’t happen overnight, so to speak. As the council adjourned, she announced she’d rework the terms of the treaty, and hopefully, by next month, Katara would have two important pieces of news to share with them.

The next item on her list was a matter closer to her heart. _Zuko_. She’d listened to his insecurities surrounding Tonraq, and now she was going to do her best to address them, ever at a personal cost.

Katara went back to her office, forcing a smile as she entered. “Siku, good evening.”

“Chief,” the waterbender stood, offered a curt bow, then took his seat, “I trust things are well.”

“Mostly,” she answered.

“Are you…” His eyes narrowed as she sank into her seat. He was never one to beat around the bush, so the moment Katara was comfortable, Siku pushed the subject. “I’m assuming I’ve been asked back because Tonraq did not fulfill is duty, my Lady.”

She shrugged. “It’s really impossible to know this quickly, but… Druk hasn’t been acting overly defensive… he always does, even going so far as to snap at Zuko… and that seems to start just _days_ after conception.” Katara let out a short sigh and rubbed her forehead.

“I actually asked you here because, if I’m not pregnant…” Katara paused for a minute, then decided there was no proper way to put it. “It's no secret I had a relationship with Tonraq before my marriage. My husband is growing increasingly jealous of that fact, and I worry it could jeopardize us. If I’m not pregnant, I’m asking that you take Tonraq’s place. We have no former romantic relationship. I feel Prince Zuko will handle our… _union_ better.”

Siku swallowed. She didn’t miss the slight pink on his cheeks as he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, and when he lifted his head, again, Katara could see the answer in his gaze. Her stomach sank.

“I can’t, Chieftess. I’m sorry… I wish, I wish I could help you, but I can’t. I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Katara said. “At the beginning of all this, I said any of you could back out without any questions asked. It’s hard. I understand. A part of me is certain Tonraq’s only involved because he still loves me. He’s ignoring his own pain to help me.”

Siku nodded, “He’s a very selfless man. If only we could all be so.”

Katara scoffed. “There never would’ve been a war, and I wouldn’t be in this predicament.” She smiled bitterly, then stood and shook Siku’s hand. “I do appreciate your time, Siku… and don’t worry. I’ll figure this out.”

* * *

 

When Zuko arrived home, he was glad to feel cold. He never thought he’d think so in his life. The time with the children made him happy. He had the whole week just to keep them close. He didn’t want to put it in Yue’s face, but he was savoring his kids, not taking them for granted after this horrific scare.

He couldn’t stop thinking of the cruel things his uncle said about him and about his wife. They couldn’t be further from the truth, and as they sailed away, Zuko never felt further from his uncle. He loved his uncle, and didn’t want this distance, but the way Iroh spoke was like he thought of his nephew as a good to be traded in exchange for good will. It made Zuko feel horrid, and it made him furious that he had he nerve to belittle his wife and the strongest person on earth.

But, at least, he was home.

Zuko nearly jumped off the ship with the children. They all dashed through the snow, and into the palace, searching for Katara. Zuko smirked, and shushed them at her office door. He peeked his head in, and saw her standing with her back turned, looking through files. The children snickered, and he shushed them again.

Zuko motioned “one, two, three” and they all crept in, and when their father gave the cue, the children shouted, “boo!” And attacked their mother in an embrace, causing her to startle and Zuko laughed along with the kids, joining them in embracing their mother.

He pecked her lips, making Hakoda squeal _“Ew”_ and Zuko ruffled his hair. “I’m sorry, my love, it was too easy,” he spoke, a lopsided grin overturning his face. “How are you, Kat?”

* * *

 

She’d filled her five days of solitude with new drafts of the treaty and busywork around the palace. She missed her kids and her husband. In the evenings, Katara would trek out to see Druk, partly to have the company and partly to see if the dragon behaved as he did with her other pregnancies. 

He didn’t. He was his normal, friendly self… perfect for napping under his wing. But, every time she trudged back inside, well rested, yet all the wearier, her stomach would sink like a rock in the ocean. She was going to have to go back to that hut, again; she’d have to hurt her husband, again.

On her final day of loneliness, Katara wandered into her office late in the afternoon. She still had the short list of names given to her by the council. If she had to do this, the least she could do was cut down on the damage. Zuko’s face flashed in her head, that wounded expression he wore on that  _stupid_ night in the Fire Nation. She didn’t want to see that look again, not if she could help, not if there was something that could be done.

Katara pulled out the list and skimmed over the names, noting anyone she knew vaguely and crossing off the men under thirty. She couldn’t even follow the council’s thinking there. _Idiots,_ Katara huffed under her breath.

A commotion at her door made her turn; she stuffed the paper under others on her desk and looked up. Immediately, her scowl lifted and Katara swept Zuko into a hug, then dropped down to pester her children with a barrage of kisses.

“I’m fine, better now,” she said, straightening. Her fingers ruffled Hakoda’s hair. “How was the trip? Were they all good? Did they get along with Kazu?” 

* * *

Zuko felt ten times lighter to be home, his family reunited. It was funny, how time could change things. A decade ago, he never would’ve thought in his wildest dreams that he’d feel safe to be in the Southern Water Tribe. He never thought leaving the Fire Nation for ice would make his heart melt. But, here he was, his wife in his arms, and his kids at his feet, and he was _happy_.

“They were perfect,” Zuko stated, “a little rambunctious, antsy, maybe, but perfect,” replied Zuko. “Kazu had a great time, and our turtle ducks were all good to their cousin,” Zuko spoke, ruffling Kya’s hair affectionately. Yue, though Zuko didn’t want to say so in front of the kids, fared far worse. Zuko heard her crying every night. He tried to comfort her, but she only acted as if she was fine. He knew no one could be after all she endured.

“Did Pakku manage everything okay?”

* * *

“Oh, of course,” Katara said, brushing the question off with a huff. “The council wouldn’t _dare_ give an esteemed, male waterbender any trouble. Everything went wonderfully… he even managed to get next month’s budget signed without much fuss.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, then pecked Zuko’s nose. Despite the heavy things weighing down on her soul, Katara did feel that some of her burden had been lifted. Inside his embrace was somewhere she always felt safe, secure, no matter what was happening.

Katara lingered there for a moment longer, letting her thoughts calm while she listened to the children bicker. Their energy was quickly returning, resulting in a bending match between Hakoda and Ursa in the center of her office’s ornate rug.

“Hey… _hey!”_ she warned. Katara broke away from Zuko and separated the two siblings. “There’s no firebending in here. Ursa, be nice to your brother. You could hurt him.”

“No, she can’t!” Hakoda was quick to fight back. "She’s _a girl.“_   

Katara cocked her head to the left, peering at her son. “Oh? And because you’re a boy, you’re automatically stronger and better?”

The nine year old frowned. Katara could see his thoughts working through it, his mind spinning as he grasped the lesson. Behind her, Ursa stuck her tongue out in a taunt, and Hakoda grumbled, “I’m still older, and being older makes me better. Doesn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Katara played along. “You’re a ripe, old man, darling. And do you know what ripe, old men do? Where do you think Grandpa Pakku is right now?”

Ursa laughed at the same time Kya squealed, “He’s taking his nap!”

When Hakoda’s bottom lip pushed out with a pout, even Katara couldn’t keep from chuckling. She kissed her son’s cheek to make it up to him, then sent him off to the playroom with his brother and sisters. “Wear yourself out for your nap!” she called to him.

After a second, Katara shook her head, still smiling when she closed the door to her office and took Zuko’s hand. She tugged him to the sofa, where he sat down and pulled her into his lap. Katara nuzzled his neck.

“I missed you,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re back.”

* * *

Zuko smiled, having Katara in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling his wife in close. “I missed you so much,” he replied, pulling his head back to kiss her lips, than he rubbed their noses together with a tender laugh. “You know, I never thought I would be happy to leave the Fire Nation to come to a place made of ice, and that it would actually make me feel warm,” he told her.

He let the moment be in peaceful silence a beat, before speaking up. “Yue is… broken,” Zuko told Katara. “I tried to speak to her… I think she’s wary of me because of how Lu Ten is my cousin,” Zuko explained. “I mean, I would be a wreck… but it was painful to see,” Zuko went on. “She cried- sobbed- every night. I don’t understand how my cousin could do that to her. Yue told me he didn’t even care she was leaving when she said goodbye.”

* * *

Katara nodded, her lips pressed together tight. She was worried to bring up her plans, despite her prior belief that Zuko would appreciate the gesture. It could easily go the other way; he could see it as her attempt to get out of a marriage _to him._

A deep breath made her ribs expand, and she held it until her lungs ached. Then, Katara let it go in the form of a heavy sigh. Carefully, she broached the subject:

“I… decided to nullify the treaty,” Katara started. “Technically, with Lu Ten’s infidelity and my own inability to make one of our children the Water Tribe’s chief, it’s already been broken. However, I do think the world’s benefitted from it as a whole, and I want to keep some of the terms.”

She unwound from Zuko’s grasp and went to her desk, collecting the notes she’d made. Katara offered the papers to him, and sat back down. “I’ve taken out the marriage clause. It’s no longer a requirement of the peacetime.”

“Yes, the marriages were necessary to establish the treaty, but there’s other things that an uphold peace,” Katara explained. “We have open trade routes, clear lines of communication between the nations. The Fire Nation’s military has been dismantled to a defensive level only. The Earth Kingdom has straightened out. The Water Tribes are both flourishing. We’ve reached a point that we can alter the rules of the treaty.”

“In exchange for your uncle’s acceptance, I’ve written in the release of all debts. The Fire Nation will no longer owe any nation any reparation money. Your people can rebuild, finally, as the rest of the world has done.”

Katara smiled, somewhat tightly. She was unable to read his face, so she reached out, squeezing Zuko’s forearm. “This means Yue can divorce Lu Ten. It means Lu Ten can marry Su, he can name on of their children as his heir… it means _you_ can leave, Zuko. You’re not a prisoner here. You don’t have to fear the repercussions if this becomes too much. You have real power, now.” 

* * *

He didn’t know if she expected him to be happy about this, but Katara’s words sent panic through him. The timing, with everything going on with Tonraq, made him anxious. Why now, did she set it up that there was a legal out for their marriage? Why now must there be a loophole? Zuko got silent, his face falling from the laughter moments ago to a steady, sullen face of worry.

The prince swallowed thickly, not knowing how to respond to all this. It scared him. “I would never _choose_ to leave,” Zuko told her, meeting her gaze with a firm sincerity and promise. “The treaty hasn’t kept me here for ten years, Katara,” Zuko promised her.

“I would choose to stay… time after time… again and again, every day, the rest of my life,” he whispered. “When I say ‘home’, I mean the Southern Water Tribe, now,” he spoke. “I’m glad Yue is free to be happy… despite what he’s done, I’m glad Su and Lu Ten, too can be happy openly,” muttered Zuko.

“But, me? I’m already happy. I have a wonderful wife, and four beautiful children. Why would I want to go?” Asked Zuko, growing upset from his fears. “I plan on growing old and dying here, Kat.”

* * *

“No one’s… no one’s saying you can’t,” Katara countered, her voice rising with frustration. “I want you here, too, Zuko. I just can’t look at Yue and the last two years she’s spent trapped because of a treaty and do the same to you. I’m only giving you power; I’m not trying to wield it.”

She shook her head. Irritation was evident on her features now, knitting her brows together and setting her jaw in a tense line. She knew this was going to happen; _she knew it_. Nothing was good enough. Nothing made him happy. If she did anything, he’d take it as a personal slight or an attempt to be rid of him.

Katara’s breath hissed through her nostrils. “No one is making you leave, least of all, _me._ I didn’t lie when I said you are my one and only, Zuko. I didn’t lie when I said forever. I want you here for as long as you want to stay. I was only trying to give you an option, some freedom. I didn’t realize it’d set you off.” 

* * *

Zuko quieted, not knowing what to say. He could tell she was vexed, and he didn’t want to worsen things. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, genuinely. He glanced at the floor, looking at the patterns on the carpet. He hated the council. He hated them for making a mess of his entire life. Why couldn’t they just accept a fire bender? Why did they have to hate his children so much? They were just as much Katara’s as his.

“I’m glad Yue can start fresh,” Zuko finally added. “She deserves that… to be happy,” Zuko whispered. “She was so broken, coming over…” Zuko repeated, letting out a shaky sigh, his words were distracted by his thoughts. He didn’t want to go. He missed her, and he didn’t want to fight.

* * *

“Me too,” Katara agreed. A small smile curved her lips. She was at least happy to leave the subject of Zuko’s upset. “She deserves the best, everything we have to offer. Plus, I think life in the South will be easier for her and Kazu to adjust to, over the Fire Natin’s oppressive heat. In any case..” 

Katara left the sofa again, going back behind her desk to take her seat. There was still a stack of paperwork to get through, not to mention the list of approved candidates to finish and hand back to the Council. Plus, she had to send copies of her proposed treaty out to the nations and spend some time with her kids before bed.

She sighed, slightly overwhelmed by her projects, but none so troubling as the mess her Council had created. It was out of the question to completely oppose them, but Katara couldn’t help the resentment she felt. They’d wrecked so much for her, made her marriage tense and frigid. Zuko seemed to be slipping away from her and there wasn’t much she could do. What she’d tried— talking, kissing, rewriting international peace treaties— only made it worse. Maybe he just needed space. 

She resolved to give him that. Like Zuko had said, it was all too soon. She’d only bedded Tonraq… _Um,_ Katara did the math in her head, humming lowly, nine days ago. Only nine days. How was he supposed to be over that, already? Zuko just needed time and space. 

And, Katara wanted a drink. 

She spun in her chair, rummaging through the cabinet behind her desk until she found a bottle of amber liquid. Whiskey. Her father’s favorite. She didn’t have the penchant for it that he did, but Katara wanted something comforting, and maybe the taste of her father’s preferred drink would give her that. 

“Do you want some,” she offered, selecting two, crystal glasses. “It’ll help things seem less… _fatalist.”_

* * *

Zuko felt so content coming in here, but now everything was shaken. He hated the feeling of unease in his gut. He felt so guilty, then he felt guilty for feeling guilty. He wished he could talk to his uncle, but he’d painted Katara into something she wasn’t, and he’d never allow it, and Lu Ten would never be able to sympathize when he was deliberately cheating on his wife for years.

Zuko’s breath was slow, trying to calm himself down. Even her words as she offered him a drink hurt. Zuko walked to the chair across her desk and sat, giving her a somber smile, his eyes glasses over with a glare in them that matched that the reflected off the amber liquid in the neck of the bottle.

“I think I might have two,” he said with a laugh, nodding at her, as he sat feeling anxious. His eyes scanned over the paperwork, and he tapped his fingers over her desk. “Would you like any help on these? You’ve been out a while, I’m sure there’s a lot.”

* * *

“You want two… I want six… maybe we should just split the bottle,” Katara teased. She’d already poured Zuko’s drink, so she offered him the glass, but instead of pouring her own, Katara brought the bottle to her lips and took a swig. 

It burned her throat on the way down, then spread out in her belly with a lazy warmth. The taste wasn’t the best, but Katara decided she liked the heat. A second draught and she set the bottle down on the edge of her desk. A hazy smile was all she offered Zuko, before pushing half the stack towards him with a pen. 

“Read stuff over first,” she instructed. “I haven’t even glanced at these yet, so don’t just forge my signature. _Yes_ ’s go back on the desk, with wet ink; the _no_ ’s can go on the floor.” Katara giggled slightly, a little shrug in her shoulders. “I trust you with it.” 

She slouched back in her chair, dizzy and hot. Maybe the alcohol was already reaching her… she did forget to eat when Zuko wasn’t around. Maybe she was just nervous… for the evenings to come, for the reaction from her husband. Maybe it was all going to her head. Katara couldn’t exactly pinpoint the reason her stomach twisted up. 

Either way, she reached for the whiskey, again, knocking back another mouthful with a grimace. “Do you think it’s a bad idea for me to approve official documents while drunk? Oh! We could play a drinking game. Last one to finish their stack has to run from the east to the west wing _naked.”_

* * *

Zuko took a swig of the drink himself, tempted to down the entire thing in one gulp. It was strong, and he’d tasted better, but it’d get the job done. Katara took a larger gulp than he, and he laughed teasingly, sifting at the papers with his fingers, chuckling at Katara’s haphazard instructions. 

“Aye-Aye, Chief,” teased Zuko, saluting her playfully as he glossed over the political and legal jargon. Most of it was trivial things like requests for a hearing on budget cuts to road expansions. He didn’t know how his wife dealt with this nonsense so long. 

It was far more interesting to watch her pretty face light up, and laugh with her as the whiskey hit her head, and he took another go at it himself. “Hm, running naked down the halls? You know, I like the idea of forging your signature better, but I’m not one to deny a challenge.”


	42. Chapter 42

“Nope, you’re not… ” Katara winked at him, retrieving the bottle. She filled his glass again, then took a sip herself. “You’re also one to _lose_ a challenge. Are you sure you want to do this? The whole staff will find out what a cute ass you have. I’ll have to fend them all off.”

She laughed, setting the whiskey down, and retrieved her quill pen from atop the documents. Her stack was measurably smaller than Zuko’s, given that she’d been slightly unfair in handing him papers and she’d already worked through some of hers. Still, the warmth that spread out to her fingers was making it hard to read.

Katara squinted at the same line, frowning slightly as she chewed her lip to work some feeling back into it. “I can’t tell if this person wants to keep the ice fields untouched or if they’re mad because I proposed an oil drilling project…” she grumbled under her breath.

“Probably mad,” Katara crumbled the paper in her hand. "They always seem to be mad. It’s flat out _rude!_ I specifically sectioned off a massive portion of the ice fields for reservation, but we need the rev— _Nine?!_ You’ve finished nine documents? That’s not fair!“

She stood up and tossed the wadded parchment at Zuko’s head, huffing when he easily swatted her attack away. A smirk spread across his face, making his eyes flash. Katara’s playful irritation morphed into a giggle.

“I think you’re cheating because you want to see _me_ naked,” she slurred, sinking back down her seat. Her head cocked to the side. “Or maybe I’m letting you win? Will you ever truly know?”

* * *

“You, letting me win?” Zuko said with a laugh, signing another document. “And, missing out on the chance of seeing me run naked through the halls?” he added, picking up his glass and swishing the whiskey around in it with a smirk, a blush on his pale cheeks. “Over the ten years I’ve known you, I’d dare to assume that’s highly unlikely,” teased Zuko, then taking another swig of the beverage. 

“Besides, you have the higher ground… it’s all your information, and my stack’s ten miles high, and yours is but a foot,” Zuko teasingly complained, sifting through another round of paperwork, smirking. 

“In all honesty, it’ll bring in jobs, and keep up the competition with the North. Right now, they dominate the oil business, and many Southerns are moving there, so I think you’re doing the right thing,” Zuko replied, signing another lengthy document in Katara’s hand. He’d mastered it by now. Many nights, he’d carried her to bed from this desk. She’d doze off with her head on the paperwork, and he’d have to wipe the ink from her cheek. Zuko smiled fondly at the memory of the words imprinted on her skin. 

“I _do_ wonder what your diplomats, congressional leaders, senators, nobles, and the like will think when they see their Chieftess bare naked, prancing through the palace halls,” Zuko taunted, setting down his penultimate stack with a wide grin. 

* * *

Katara shrugged, a coy smile playing at her lips as she looked across the desk at him. “They’ll probably wish they were you,” she said. “They’ll all get to see a flash of tit, but you actually get to grope ‘em.”

She snickered a little, grinning when Zuko flushed pink and cleared his throat. His gaze returned to his work, but Katara didn’t miss the almost cocky look he wore. Although, when his pen started moving again and Zuko pinched his brow in concentration, Katara pulled her stare from him and set about her work, too.

She rushed over the tightly-printed words. Katara was definitely dizzy now, on the verge of drunk. A part of her regretted the equivalent of four or five shots on an empty stomach, but most of her didn’t care. It was nice to be laughing, even if it meant ignoring the underlying issues in their marriage. They could just have fun for now, maybe talk about the harder subjects in the morning.

But, when she glanced up to weigh Zuko’s progress, he was reading over the last document and Katara knew she’d lost. She pouted. Her pen clattered against her desk as she stood up, putting on a show of reluctance.

“I guess it’s me…” Her fingers when to the sash around her waist, her eyes still on her husband.

Zuko didn’t look up. In fact, his expression furrowed into something troubled and upset. Katara stopped undoing her tunic and peered at him; her heart immediately spiked to a new, nervous level. Nothing had been going right. Their troubles couldn’t even leave them alone for a night.

Katara’s breath was shaky as she asked, “What is it? Zuko… what’s the matter?”

* * *

Zuko got to the last paper, about to smile, and through a victory dance, then tell her he wasn’t going to make her do it, and he’d settle for a private session. But, that all came crashing down when he read, then re-read the document before him. It was different then all the others. It was more personal, and it struck Zuko deep. He frowned, then let out a deep breath. 

He felt he was becoming a burden to his wife, and didn’t want to bother her anymore. What was done, was done. He felt like he had no room to complain anymore. He’d aired his grievances with her having a baby with another, and he should keep quiet, and get over it. But, this was upsetting, and he couldn’t just let it happen. Mostly he couldn’t let it happen because it was going to hurt Katara the most. 

“Kat,” Zuko spoke, his hand running over the paper as he shook his head, his heart sinking in his chest. “I don’t… I don’t want to ruin the night… we were having a good time, and everything’s been… so, so heavy lately,” Zuko spoke, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, guilt filling his chest for how burdensome he felt he was becoming as of late. The last thing Zuko ever wanted to be was a burden to anymore, especially his wife. 

“But, this list, Kat,” Zuko spoke, holding up the list of eligible men she’d chosen. “Why, Kat? You picked Tonraq. You like Tonraq. Tonraq loves you… you– you’re comfortable with him. You know he’ll be good to your child… I don’t understand. Is it because of me?” he asked quietly, shaking his head. “Kat… I’m… I’m sorry, love… if I made you feel like you had to… pick someone new. I… I can’t promise I’ll stop feeling jealous, but I know to think beyond it,” he whispered. 

Guilt filled his chest, and Zuko sighed. “Kat, I don’t want this to be a heavier weight on your heart than it already is. You’re comfortable with him… don’t change that because I… I was being a child. I’m sorry I’ve been such a burden. Please, let me be here for you… I’m your husband, and I love you. Let me help… this is hard, I know, but, Agni, Kat… I know you don’t want to sleep with a strange man, let alone _have a baby_ with him.”

* * *

“I don’t… I don’t want to, but…” Katara let out a slow breath. She wasn’t able to grasp her thoughts. It’d all made sense before… Well, before the whiskey. She glared at the bottle with regret now, trying to find Zuko some coherent reasoning. 

She glanced up, chewing her lip. “You don’t like Tonraq. You… You’re not comfortable with my relationship with him.” Katara shifted as tension sank into her limbs. “I thought I’d help by…. taking him out of the equation.” 

Katara studied her husband from across the room. She couldn’t tell if Zuko wanted her close, but she decided to take the chance and walked towards him. Her slippered feet were soft on the floor, barely making any noise. Maybe that was why he looked up from the sheet of paper in surprise when Katara touched his back. 

“It doesn’t have to be Tonraq,” she said. “I don’t have to be comfortable. That’s not _imperative_ to conception…” Suddenly, her words bubbled up and spilled out in a rush. “The council can pick, okay? A different man every time until I’m pregnant, it doesn’t matter. I won’t even know who it is— it can be a dark room or I’ll be blindfolded or something. The man will… _literally_ come and go, and it’ll be over. You won’t have to feel any… betrayal or… jealousy.” 

She swallowed, a tilt of her head giving away how sick she felt. Katara tried to hide it, but tears were filling her eyes. 

“I just want you to be happy. I want our marriage to be happy. I’m scared if I don’t do it this way, you’ll leave. And,  _you can!_ You have every right to… Even before I changed the treaty, I would’ve let you go, Zuko, it meant your happiness. And if this means your happiness… I’ll try it.” Katara looked away. “I don’t… I don’t care about me.”

* * *

Zuko shook his head at her, looking up at her with sad, worried eyes as she touched his back. Her words touched him, but they broke him at the same time.  She was throwing herself in the dirt like it didn’t matter, and it was clearly breaking her. Zuko wouldn’t stand for such a thing. 

Zuko stood then, cupping Katara’s face in his hands and swallowing thickly as he looked at her, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I would much, much rather feel a little more jealous than I would otherwise than know my wife is upset and uncomfortable with some strange man, alone in a cabin,” Zuko told her, shaking his head. “Kat… I’m going to be jealous, no matter what… that– that’s just something I… I have to get over in this situation we’re in.”

Zuko moved his hands to her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable and upset like that… I– I won’t have you with some stranger… like an animal or something, Kat. That will not make me feel better, that makes me more worried and upset– for you,” Zuko tried to explain. 

He pulled Katara into his arms then, and pressed her head to his shoulder, holding her close. “Shh, Kat, don’t say that, please,” urged Zuko. “I am happy,” he promised her. “I’m happier than I ever thought I could be… I’m happier surrounded by ice than in the Fire Nation, and it’s only because of the wonderful life I have here. I have the children, and you, and our friends, and my representative duties on the council, and I have so much in my life, and when I was young, I never thought I’d have anything. But, I am happy,” Zuko promised. “And, our marriage is happy, too. No one makes me happier than you do. I love you, and you make me feel like you’d stop the world for me,” he told her, rubbing her back. 

“I would never leave you, Katara, ever,” swore Zuko. “That is one thing you never have to worry about, okay? I’m happy, and our marriage is happy, but… things aren’t happy right now… but Kat, we will get through it. It’s gonna suck, I’m not going to promise it won’t, but I am going to promise we’ll get over it- together. And, I care about you, okay? Even if you say you don’t, I do,” he whispered. “And, I won’t let you do something like that to yourself. You deserve to feel safe, and… he might bug me, but at least I know that Tonraq is keeping you safe. I’m not scared that you’re upset, or hurt, or afraid, or crying, or miserable with Tonraq… at least I can believe him when he tells me he’ll take care of you, and that’s more important to me than any _additional_ jealousy I feel because you two were together, before. This is going to hurt, seeing you raise a baby with another man, and it’s going to hurt you too, I know that… so let’s try to reduce the pain as much as we can, okay? Let… let’s get _through_ this.”

* * *

“Tonraq isn’t a threat,” Katara mumbled, shaking her head absently. “He never will be, as long as I’m with you.” She exhaled wearily and toddled back her to chair. Her weight thudded down in it and Katara perched her chin in her hand, peering at Zuko curiously. 

Should she believe him? It was hard to say. She didn’t want her relief at his… _permission_ to override what was best. His jealousy and worries seemed to be the source of strain on their marriage. Katara could handle a random lay if it meant he felt secure. She squinted, trying to read him. 

But, it seemed impossible. His gaze was too earnest. And, she was too drunk and dizzy, sweating beneath her clothes from nerves and drink. They could talk more when she was sober.

Katara popped up rather quickly for her state. The bottle was right there and her bet was waiting— she lifted the whiskey to her lips and drank more. “I lost our little game…” she said, shrugging as she plucked her sash undone. “A Chieftess always makes good on her promises.”  

“Are you going to watch?” she asked. Her tunic slipped off her shoulders to the floor. Katara pushed down her leggings next, smirking. “Maybe chase me back to our room and punish me for streaking?” 

* * *

Zuko laughed and followed Katara to the sofa, pecking her lips. “You did lose, my love,” he replied, “But, if the winner does get to set the rules, I think I’d like to negotiate,” Zuko whispered, pecking her cheek once more. “We can skip the part where you streak down the halls,” Zuko trailed off, brushing her hair from her face. “If, instead, we go back to bed, and hide in there the rest of the night, and maybe you can give me a private showing,” jested Zuko. 

He sat back, and handed her back her leggings and sash. “I mean, if you’d really enjoy bearing yourself buck naked for the entire palace to see, then go on right ahead, but that sounds pretty terrible to me, so as the merciful prince I am, I’ll spare you the horrid damnation,” Zuko teased her, reaching for his glass of whiskey and chugging it down, then wiping his lips. 

“What do you say? A deal?”

* * *

“A private show?” _La,_ her voice was low, breathy. “For the Prince? I think… that could be arranged. I couldn’t say no to royalty, and such… handsome royalty, at that.” _Fuck_. She sounded ridiculously needy. Maybe it was the alcohol in her veins, or maybe it was the mischief in his eyes and the hint of a smile in her direction.

Katara watched Zuko’s throat bob as he gulped the rest of his whiskey, and suddenly she wanted to chase the flavor across his tongue. She wanted to smell in on his skin, cord her fingers in his silky hair, whisper in his ear that she was his.

“I—” She couldn’t really form a coherent word. Was she that drunk? _No_ , Zuko just had that much of an affect on her; and he fucking knew it. He was taunting her, with his tongue flicking out over his lips, his eyes half-lidded, the molten amber flashing.

Her mouth watered like she’d been parched for days, and finally shown a glass of water. _Thirsty_. That was the word. She was fucking thirsty, like a sex-crazed teenager who just couldn’t get enough. Katara swallowed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, catching her breath.

Then, she shifted, pressing her thighs together with quiet whine, and came around the desk. Katara took her sash and leggings back from him, clutching the fabric to her chest like it’d hide the lust bringing a flush to her skin.

She wet her lips. “I think you should take me your bed, Prince Zuko… then, you have a deal.” 

* * *

Zuko laughed warmly, looking over at his wife with deep want. He’d been sex deprived for weeks, and he longed to touch her, and be touched by her. Zuko walked over to his wife put his hands to the sofa, propping his arms up over her, and watching her with a lusting gleam in his eyes. 

Zuko laughed, just looking at her, overcome with love for the woman looking at him like it was the first time she’d seen him, despite their ten years together. He leaned in and kissed her lips, tasting the liquor on hers. 

“I think I ought to bring you to my suite as well,” teased Zuko, a gauche, lopsided grin growing on his face. Zuko peppered her face in kisses again before scooping her up into his arms bridal style off the sofa, and pressing more kisses to her face. 

Zuko was laughing as he carried her through the halls, promising not to drop her as he stumbled a bit. The guards at their bedroom door rolled their eyes as they held open the door for Zuko, closing it behind them. Zuko tossed Katara upon the comforter with laughter, tumbling over her before leaning down to kiss her again. 

“A deal?”


	43. Chapter 43

“Yes… yes, the deal…” Katara giggled in her throat, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips sought his, and she let herself be content with the taste of Zuko’s tongue until her breath had quickened to little gasps.

She rolled her hips up, eliciting a low, surprised groan from Zuko. It was just the distraction she needed. Katara found purchase with her heels on the mattress and rolled him off her. Her knees settled on either side of his hips, her hands flattened on his stomach.

Katara ran her fingertips down to his thighs. His cock twitched against the fabric of his pants, but she ignored it. “I seem to remember something about a strip tease,” she said. She felt her way up to her chest, toyed with the edges of her undone tunic. "His highness demanded it.“

A coy smirk spread across her lips. She moved slowly, deliberately drawing it out— her tunic fell from her shoulders, down her back. Katara dragged her palms over her covered breasts; her nipples pebbled up beneath her bindings. She circled them with her thumbs, watching Zuko’s mouth part with a silent plea.

"No touching,” Katara said, finding the clip that held her undergarments tight against her ribs. “I’m teasing you, Prince Zuko. You’ll have to wait for gratification.”

The bindings came undone with a slight tug. As the strips of fabric pooled around her waist, Katara shifted so the curve of her ass pressed down on Zuko’s cock. She began grinding on him slowly, toying with her exposed breasts while he bucked up beneath her, unsatisfied and wanting.

She smiled innocently. “Should I remove my lower bindings, too, Prince Zuko? Would you like that?”

* * *

 

Katara always knew what to do to drive him up the wall. However, the prince was sure he would not have it any other way as he lied, writhing beneath her. Zuko bit on his lip, eager to touch her, to kiss her everywhere, to have her lips all over him, and her skin against his own. Agni, Zuko wanted her. It’d been too long, and he yearned for her body to be one with his own. 

Zuko looked up at her, placing his hands on her waist to steady her and himself, and increase their heated friction. His thumb slipped to the band of her lower bindings, and he smirked up at Katara. “It would suit your highness,” Zuko teased back, playing along. 

He licked his lips, watching as she continued to tease him, and again, Zuko got caught just admiring her. Her eyes held the strength of the ocean, like the markings on his leg, and he ran his hand down hers, feeling the beveled lines of the dragon imprint on her skin. Katara’s eyes were soft, too, full of affection he knew, despite his worries, was only for him, and in this moment, they were also clouded with a hooded lust. Her skin was soft, and smooth, and her smile was warm and welcoming. Stretch marks from her four births covered her thighs and stomach, reminding him of how she’d given him his four, beautiful children. 

Zuko was eager for her, and unlike in the Fire Nation, the doubts didn’t plague him. He felt secure, whether it be the liquor, or the openness in their conversation. He wanted to reclaim their intimacy– and he wanted to do it now. “Pl-Please, Kat– _Chieftess Katara,_ ” he jested, pushing his hips up against her in a desperate move for more.

* * *

Katara laughed, “Chieftess, _hmm?”_ Her hips rolled in time with his, encouraging the desperate thrusts he made. His cock was hard and hot against her sex; she could feel it through her bindings. “You only use that when you really, _really_ want something.”

She dropped her hands from her breasts to Zuko’s chest, plucking at his shirt like it was a game. A tease here, and she’d undone the buttons. A taunt there, and she’d tugged his tunic open, exposing soft, ivory skin stained with a scarred starburst. Katara traced her fingers over the old wound, reverence in her eyes, _I love you_ on her lips. 

Then, she leaned forward, kissing up his sternum to his neck, sucking his pulse hard enough to marks that Katara  _wanted_ the world to see. 

“You’re so pretty,” she murmured, a slight giggle in her breath when she nuzzled the shell of Zuko’s ear. Katara sat up, smiling down. “You could get anything out of me with those looks… so, I guess I’ll give you _full_ nudity.” 

Katara winked, made him whine when the rolls of hips stopped. She promised him it’d be worth it, slipping from his lap and standing at the edge of the bed between his knees. She caressed down his thighs slowly, then up hers, unwinding her bindings when she reached her waist. 

The white fabric fell to the floor, along with the cloth that’d been around her breasts. She bit her lip, caught somewhere between pride and shyness as their eyes met. 

Zuko’s held awe, desire, and unbridled lust. She felt her cheeks warm, then begin to ache as her vision blurred, and Katara knew her eyes held nothing but love. It was all she could do not to burst towards him. She tried to keep her advance slow, seductive— she could see he was dying for it, _for her._ His pants strained with the bulge of his cock; his breath tightened as she got closer.

Hers quickened to match. Her fingers trembled. Katara cupped his face, then his neck, pushed on his shoulders to make him lay back again. She pulled the ties on his pants. Zuko lifted his hips slightly when she asked; Katara pushed the trousers down to his ankles. 

Then, she was back in his lap, and he was sitting up, holding her close with his hands flat on her back and she trembled while she ground her soaked sex down his cock. Katara made fists in his hair, whispered his name: 

“Zuko,” her lips brushed his. “Kiss me.” 

* * *

Every touch she graced him with made him feel closer to her in every sense. In some ways, this was the reassurance he needed– the physical reassurance. Despite it all, Katara still made Zuko feel special with every touch, and every kiss, and he loved her for it. More than that, he loved her because she was Katara, and as he watched her move about the room so simply, he thought he’d melt just thinking how lucky he was to call her his own. 

It’d been so long, Zuko felt he was already on the edge. His cock was throbbing, and he ached, dying to push himself inside her. He wanted her close, and he wanted to feel her. “Kat,” Zuko grunted, an almost animalistic plea, and she obliged, crawling over to him, and sitting in his lap. Zuko sighed in a stutter, his eyes bobbing back in his head as she pushed against him, “Fuck,” cursed Zuko, pushing her closer against him. 

He gasped at her movements, and his forehead leaned against hers. He smirked at her command, and nodded, “Your wish is my command,” he replied softly, then his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned in to kiss her with a needy moan, slipping his tongue inside her mouth as he then lifted his hips to push his cock inside her, pulling at her lower lip as he did with a throaty moan of her name. 

“Shit, Kat,” cursed Zuko, his fingers digging into her hips as breathed thickly, relieved to feel the tightness of her walls against him. He leaned in again, laughing warmly, his breath airy, “I love you.”

* * *

Finally. She felt… _complete._ For weeks she’d been missing something, gone without something, and that was being his. Now— now, Katara couldn’t get closer to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and took him deep, a whine in her chest at how she stretched around his cock. 

“Zuko.” His name was a sigh in her throat. Katara breathed in, slowly lifting her weight, savoring every inch of him, then moaned as their hips met again.  _“La_. I love you. _I love you.”_

Her eyes were half-closed, but Katara sought out his lips. She found them, soft and pliant, melding with her own. She coaxed his mouth open, chased the flavor of whiskey on his tongue, drank down the whispers of love and lust as they spilled from his lungs.

And she moved. Slowly. She wanted this to last. She wanted to hold him, never be separated from him. 

Zuko’s fingers dug into her sides, gently at first, then rough. He’d leave bruises; Katara didn’t mind. She’d finish with the memories of him imprinted her skin. She tugged his hair, kissed his neck, took her time cherishing and treasuring him. 

He was perfect; Katara told him again, and again. Her voice was a broken chorus of praise. _Zuko. Yes. There. Faster._ Soon enough, their pace was quick. Skin slapped skin and she shuddered above him, gasping as her climax hit. 

“Fuck.  Katara clung to him, begging him to keep moving. “Zuko. Please—“

* * *

Zuko kept his hands on her waist, pushing into her again and again. He didn’t want them to pull apart. He liked having Katara this close, against him, their flesh one, his lips against hers, to the point he could hear her heart beating, and feel it against his chest, too. 

He savored the way he felt inside her too, and gasped each time she slid herself against him in his lap. Zuko’s head fell on Katara’s shoulder as he neared the edge, knowing she was close too– knowing her well enough to tell. Zuko pulled his head back up, and kissed her, following her orders. “Yes, Chieftess,” teased Zuko in between his gasps for breath in his kisses. 

He grabbed Katara’s ass, and pushed her harder and faster against him, his own breath getting thicker as he did, thrusting against her, and hearing the slapping of their skin. Zuko felt his wife cling to him as she moved, and when she gasped his name, it sent him over the edge with a croon of her lovely name. 

Zuko smiled, and pulled Katara back with him to collapse on their bed as caught his breath. He tangled his hands in her hair, kissed her temple, and stroked her back quietly– contently. “I think that was a pretty good deal, Chieftess.”

* * *

“Oh, you think?” Katara toyed with his hair, her gaze hazy and heavy as she lifted her head from Zuko’s chest. His eyes were alight and warm, holding immeasurable affection for her. Her heart thumped harder in her chest, and Katara pressed closer— if that was possible— nudging his nose with hers.

She smiled softly, admiring him, then stole a kiss with a playful laugh. “I _know_ so, my love. I’m full of _great ideas_. They’re endless.” Katara laid her head back down. “My next great idea is that we have Pakku and Gran-Gran take the kids for a week and we don’t leave this room, except for food and drink and the occasional document to sign.”

Katara chuckled lightly. Her eyes drifted shut with fatigue; her limbs felt heavy. She couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be, except, perhaps on a private beach in this exact same position: naked and tangled up. At least she wouldn’t be forced into the unavoidable awkwardness of facing the guards outside her room when she went to the kitchen afterwards.

_“Ugh.”_ She begrudgingly pulled away from Zuko and sat up. “I’ll be right back. I have to go get that stupid tea,” she muttered, grabbing a robe and pulling it on.

Katara slipped out into the hall, keeping her eyes down as one of the men cleared his throat in surprise and quit rubbing his face. She used to think she’d get over this, _the walk of shame_ , as Gran-Gran had teasingly named it. She’d also told Katara to hold her head up and throw her shoulders back because she’d just had fun, while the guards were forced to stand at attention.

She rolled her eyes and did as her grandmother said, still walking faster than necessary for the kitchen. The one servant on duty knew exactly why Katara was there. He quickly put the kettle on, then poured the water over a blend of herbs and sent Katara on her way.

With the tea cup cradled between her hands, Katara made her way back to her room, eager to curl up beside Zuko and fall asleep. She blew on her tea, then tested the temperature with a small sip, only to splutter and choke when she turned down her hall.

“Kesuk.”

_Great._ His cheeks were red, either from what he’d heard through the walls or from being caught outside her door. It wasn’t like he could help it— wherever the gauds were assigned, that was that. Still, Katara couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than this, bumping into a man she’d asked to sleep with right after making an exorbitant amount of noise with her husband.

She fought for nonchalance. “How are you?”

“I’m well, my Lady.”

“Good,” she said.

“Yes.” Kesuk offered her a smile, but neither of them moved beyond that for an overly long moment. Katara was wishing the floor would swallow her whole when Kesuk looked at her curiously.

“I… was told by Siku that you may be looking for someone to replace Tonraq.”

“Oh.” Katara’s brows shot up. “I- I was…”

“Did you… did you find someone?” he asked carefully. “I know I had reservations before, but if… if you need me, I will gladly help. My skepticism only came from the… parenting… not, well,” Kesuk cleared his throat, his eyes averted. “I- I assure you it’s not _you,_ Cheiftess. You’re, _um—”_

Katara blushed and cut him off. “It… it was more for Zuko’s comfort,” she explained. Her eyes drifted to her bedroom door. “He had his own reservations, stemming from my pick, but… I don’t know, I’ll tell him you offered. If he’d rather have it be you than Tonraq, I’ll inform you. But, I think we’re going to be okay.”

Kesuk nodded, and Katara bowed respectfully, then let him open the door for her. “Goodnight, Cheiftess.”

* * *

A sadness struck Zuko when he heard Katara remind herself of the contraception. He knew it meant that she has to eliminate the chance of pregnancy with him, so she could bear the baby of another. He sighed, but pushed the worry away. He refused to let himself spoil the evening, and gave Katara a comfoting smile as she went off.

He was sleepy already, but waited up for her. His eyes scanned the room, seeing each thing in the room with its memory for the past ten years they’d been together. Each item had their history woven into it, and the life they’d built together. There were pieces of each of them as individuals, their own identities, and then the things they shared- souvenirs from every walk of life they’d journeyed on together.

Zuko was pulled from his find reminiscing when the door creaked again and Katara returned. He’d pulled on a robe, and sat up with a tender, sleepy smile to see Katara back as he yearned to still have her close, and for them to curl up together.

“Any more great ideas, Cheiftess?” Teased Zuko, patting the spot on the bed for her.

* * *

“No,” Katara shook her head, careful not to spill her tea as she climbed into bed beside Zuko. She curled her knees up to her chest and rested against the headboard, frowning slightly, perplexed.

“Although…” A chuckle snorted through her nose. She blushed again. “I think I just got… _propositioned?_ Kesuk is at our door tonight,” Katara explained, rolling her shoulders like it’d somehow rid her of the embarrassment. “I guess Siku talked to him.”

Katara lifted her tea to her lips, but it quickly landed back on top of her knees as a second realization struck her. “I never told you that,” she muttered. “Shit.”

“Okay, I… _I_ propositioned Siku while you were on your way back. I tried going through the avenue of someone I’m comfortable with before, you know, resorting to the list…” Katara explained. “He said no; that’s how I got onto the list, again.”

She took a sip of her tea this time, then cleared her throat. “Anyway, it seems like he told Kesuk, and Kesuk offered to take Tonraq’s place…” Katara bit her lip, wondering if it was weird how cavalier she was being about this, as if she’d have any easier of a time with one of her guards. “If you’d like that. It’s up to you. I’ll— fuck whoever.“  

* * *

Zuko looked at his wife in confusion, but once she elaborated, his expression softened in concern. Zuko backed up on the bed to rest his back against the headboard so he could sit beside Katara. Zuko took her hand, and brought it to his lips, then gave it a squeeze.

“It’s not up to me,” Zuko whispered, shaking his head. “It’s up to you. You’re the one having sex, not me,” Zuko stated. “Like I said, Kat, Tonraq makes you feel most comfortable and secure, and you trust him, and that makes me trust him. I just want you to feel okay, if you have to do this, and Tonraq does that, so I can get over the rest,” promised Zuko, taking a deep breath, but giving her a smile.

“Tonraq loves you… so you know he wouldn’t try to hurt you, or take advantage of you… and that makes me feel better, too. I just want to know you’re okay.”

* * *

Katara gave a terse shrug, and downed the rest of her tea. “Kesuk’s fine,” she offered. “I don’t think he’d be mean or disrespectful to me. He did say the parenting part of it all bothers him, so…”

“I don’t know,” she grumbled. “In the long run, it’d probably be better to have a father who doesn’t want to be involved, and I’m really not sure what Tonraq’s thoughts are on that. I know he wanted kids before, but it… never worked out.”

She put her cup aside on the nightstand and shimmied beneath the covers. Her mood was souring quickly; the threat of another week in the hut was looming, hovering in the corner of her thoughts. The more Katara thought about it, the more sickening it was to be trapped out there with someone she didn’t know; not how she knew Tonraq or Zuko, at least.

She chewed her lip for a minute, waiting for Zuko to get comfortable beside her before she molded to his side. “I’ll figure it out,” she murmured. “I’ll think about it all… there’s still a couple of weeks left, doesn’t need to be decided tonight.” 

* * *

Zuko sighed as he followed her beneath the covers, and opened his arms for Katara to come in close. He pressed a lingering and loving kiss to Katara’s temple, while rubbing her side as he held her. “Don’t worry for me, my love,” Zuko assured her.

“Please stick with Tonraq… I know you feel the most comfortable with him, and of all your Tribe asks of you, you deserve that. You deserve to be able to at least choose who you’re with,” he whispered.

“But, we don’t have to think about that anymore tonight,” Zuko agreed, stroking her hair gently— but, Zuko gasped with a smirk when he felt her cold feet hit his warm legs, and laughed. “Kat!” Exclaimed Zuko, laughing, she’d always done that, and despite his theatrical complaints, it always put a smile on his face.

Zuko laughed, tugging Katara closer as he attacked her face with kisses. “I love you, Kat.”

 


	44. Chapter 44

Katara wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she convinced her grandparents to spend a week in the fishing city down the coast with the kids. She called it family bonding, a chance to show Kazu the Water Tribe— when Gran-Gran pressed, Katara finally said she was trying to save her marriage. Maybe that was what did it. 

The children packed their bags and two weary, old coots (Pakku’s words, not hers) left the palace in a sled headed to the west. Yue went too, not wanting to leave her son and eager for a distraction from her grief.

At last, she and Zuko were left alone, free to rest in the peace and quiet. Or… _not rest._ Katara couldn’t say they were resting. As she promised, they hardly left their bed. She had meals brought to them; documents were signed and meetings were held in the sitting room just off their suite. They wined and dined with each other, spent hours just touching one another, and took too long savoring the other’s body. 

Katara felt… _happy._

Of course, that was never going to last. The days slipped by too quickly. She started making arrangements with her work and projects to be absent for a week, and she felt her heart begin to sink from her chest. Grey clouds seemed to hang over the palace. 

The day everyone returned from their trip, Katara met Yue in the courtyard (the children had scrambled from Katara to Zuko, and her friend immediately noticed something was off. She gave Katara an empathetic smile. 

“You have to go back, don’t you? Back to that hut, with Tonraq. You’re not pregnant.” 

“In a few days.” Katara nodded. Her throat felt tight; she tried to clear the lump in it.

Yue took her arm as they walked inside. “And, you and Zuko are…” 

“Having a lot of sex? Eating? Flirting?” She glanced at Yue sheepishly, then sighed. “I feel like we’re avoiding it. Or, skirting around it. I know he doesn’t want to bring it up because it makes me feel guilty… and I don’t want to touch it because we seem okay.” 

“On the surface. Trust me, I know what that looks like.” 

Katara’s voice was pleading, “Can’t that be enough?”

“No,” Yue said, “not for you and Zuko.”  

They were in the foyer by then. Yue stopped their progress and hugged her. Katara didn’t know what to make of the embrace, if it was apologetic or sympathetic, but she relaxed and found steadiness in Yue’s touch. When her friend pulled away, there was a soft smile on her lips and she squeezed Katara’s biceps before letting go.

“I got a letter just before we left. I wrote to my childhood tutor about what happened; she’s the closest thing I had to a mother.” Yue riffled through her bag then produced a folded piece of paper. It was stamped with the North’s seal. “Her name’s Yugoda. She’s coming here to visit next week… she’s a healer by trade, and she’s a great listener. Maybe you and Zuko could sit down with her.” 

“Like… therapy?” 

“Sure, in a way. Whatever you want to call it. I think it’d just be helpful if the two of you had an objective party to wade—” 

“No.” Katara scoffed. Something about it felt like admitting defeat and it made her angry. “I don’t care if she’s here forever, but I’m not… _No._ ” She gave the paper back, perhaps more forcefully than necessary, and skirted around the Princess. “I don’t need _therapy,_ Yue. I need an heir. _”_

“Katara!” 

She only waved a hand, brushing Yue off. She was fine, Katara told herself. Her marriage was fine. They’d make it through this, somehow. If it took holding on by her teeth, she’d do it.

* * *

 

The week did Zuko good. There was nothing better than lying up in bed with Katara and with nothing to do. All they did was talk, eat, drink, sleep, and have lots of sex. It was quiet without the kids, but the quiet was nice. It gave him much-needed time with his wife. It refreshed Zuko, and he was going to need that to face the second week of Katara going off to fuck that man who loved her. At least she was safe, and comfortable. Zuko would feel sick if he knew she was upset and trapped with a man she only barely knew. 

It still didn’t make this easy, and Zuko worried it’d go on for a year. Who knew how long? Zuko took a deep breath, and willed himself the strength to get through this. He’d take the kids out again, get some work done, take Druk out for a ride. It was so odd– when Katara was gone on business abroad, sometimes for several months, he’d miss her, but it was nothing like _this_. He didn’t even remember what he’d do while she was away in the Earth Kingdom for two months at a time, at times. But, the moments went so slow for this meager week. 

Zuko smiled as he walked towards the foyer, and then ran into Katara, who looked irate. “Kat?” Zuko spoke, tilting his head. “Love, is everything okay?” asked Zuko, “You look pissed,” he said with a small laugh, but shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, still smiling a bit, “Is it the council?”

* * *

“I wish it was the council,” Katara muttered. “At least, I can yell at them without feeling guilty.” She brought a hand to her forehead and rubbed her temples, a low sigh rushing past her lips. “Yue’s… trying to be helpful with all of this… the Tonraq thing.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, remained on the floor a minute, then wandered up Zuko’s frame. “A part of me is still annoyed that you spilled the beans, so to speak, but I do understand that it’s hard not having anyone to talk to, even if your uncle didn’t react with any sympathy…” 

Katara huffed and looked over his shoulder. Her glare found the wall and her thoughts moved too quickly to follow. Zuko was _still_ alone. Iroh was nothing but cruel, Lu Ten wouldn’t get it. Yue could sympathize, in a sense, but she didn’t love her spouse the way Zuko did. 

Her stomach flipped over as she looked down the hall in the direction of her friend. “A woman is coming from the North,” Katara started. “She’s Yue’s friend, and a healer. Yue said she would listen, if we wanted her to. I- _um—”_

She placed a hand on her belly. The feeling of unease stirring there suddenly made sense. This woman… what if she convinced Zuko he needed to leave? What if she did for him what Katara had done for Yue; gave him strength, gave him a way? What if she lost him? Katara tried to swallow, but her throat was too tight. She looked at her feet. 

“I think it might do you some good to talk with her while I’m away,” she said. “I think it could help you… maybe give you some clarity or just provide the source of… companionship that you need, from someone who won’t side with me.” 

* * *

Zuko quieted, then shook his head, concerned and confused by all of this. “Katara, we’re on the same side, I’m your husband,” Zuko retorted, taking a deep breath. “I’m upset about the situation, but I understand why it must be done– I’m not… against you,” Zuko explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He glanced down the hall, seeing Yue coming. He offered her a small smile, and turned back to Katara. “Look… I– I’ll talk to this random stranger about our problems, if that makes you feel better,” answered Zuko. “But, I don’t see how some lady I don’t know is supposed to help either of us. She doesn’t know us, or care about us, or understand anything about our lives,” Zuko spoke. He shrugged, however, “I- I’ll give it a go, though… if you think it’s good,” Zuko said. 

“I just– don’t get this idea in your head that I’m somehow… against you, or siding against you or something. That’s not true, Kat. Since I got off that boat ten years ago, we’ve been on the same team.”

* * *

“I think that’s idea… not knowing her. It’s counseling, or therapy, or whatever name you want to give it.” Katara shrugged flippantly, irritated. “Either way, you might like having someone who will listen and who will be on your side; if there’s sides to this, that is.” 

She bit her bottom lip. Yue was closing on them, smiling kindly like she always did, and Katara knew it wasn’t the time for her temper. Still, some snide remark about not believing Zuko to be on the _Fucking Tonraq_ team settled on her tongue. Katara had to swallow it, and resorted to chewing the inside of her cheek, instead. 

“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” Yue offered a courteous bow when she reached the pair. “Kazu loved the trip with his cousins. All the fresh air and laughter did myself some good, too. I appreciate you letting me steal your children for a full week.”

_Your children._ Katara glared at the floor, wondering if Yue meant anything by it or if the qualifier was directed at both of them. The Princess wasn’t looking at her, just Zuko. The thought that Yue was judging her, blaming her for this, declaring her an adulterous— just like her husband— crossed Katara’s mind. 

She pulled her gaze up, catching the tail end of Yue’s suggestion for an early lunch so the three of them could chat a bit. It made her feel sick: sitting through the obvious, quiet judgement, watching Zuko and Yue bond over unfaithful spouses. This was just what she needed— some pretty girl who could empathize with Zuko while his wife was off getting pregnant by another man. 

The jealousy unfurled in her stomach, and then Katara felt guilty. She had no right to envy her husband any companionship. _Hell,_ if he wanted to fuck someone else, she’d probably have no right to be angry. She’d done it first. He’d only be following her lead. 

Katara let out an unstable breath and shook her head. Then, she spun on her heel in the direction of her office. She wanted solitude. “I have work to do, and I need to pack my things. Enjoy your brunch date, you two.” 

* * *

Zuko turned his attention from Katara when Yue entered the scene. He gave her a wave, and returned her bow. For some reason, talking to Yue seemed more appealing than this stranger. At least he knew Yue, and Yue knew his wife, and she cared about them. How could he spill his secrets to some stranger? Yue already knew them all. She was family; she was his cousin’s wife, even if Lu Ten didn’t treat her so. 

The idea of lunch together sounded nice, and Zuko put his hand on Katara’s back to try to talk her into it, but she already seemed displeased. “Kat,” Zuko began, but she pulled away angrily. “Kat?” he spoke again, frowning. She was mad about the therapy discussion, but he didn’t think she was that mad. 

She grumbled about them enjoying a brunch date, and then Zuko saw it as jealousy. Why would she be jealous? She was invited. Was it because Yue was attractive? Tonraq was attractive, too. 

Zuko sighed, rolling his eyes. “Kat, Yue asked you along too. It’s not a _date_ ,” he grumbled, but she already started walking off. 

Yue frowned. “Zuko, she’s upset about everything, don’t fret,” she spoke. 

“She’s just stressed,” Zuko spoke defensively. 

“So are you, come on. Come get some lunch. I’m not trying to steal you from Katara, I just want some food and company,” she teased. “Let’s go, come on now,” urged Yue, and Zuko sighed, nodding. 

“All right,” Zuko agreed with a smile, “Let’s go. Have you ever hasted roasted duck?”

* * *

The items on her desk rattled when Katara slammed her office door shut. Her skin was overheated. Her stomach boiled with anxiety and twisted up in knots. She thought this would be easier, the second time around, but Katara felt worse than she had that first night with Tonraq and she wasn’t even trapped in the hut, yet. 

Her eyes drifted to the liquor cabinet behind her chair and she briefly mused at the possibility of getting drunk, going to bed until tomorrow morning. It was probably way too early; the clock showed a half hour ‘til noon. Maybe not drunk then. Maybe just _a drink._

Katara shuffled the bottles around until she found her preferred libation: vodka from Ba Sing Se. She collected a glass, created a few cubes of ice in it, then poured the clear liquid over it. 

_Just something to take the edge off,_ she thought, sink into her seat. 

She riffled through a few of the documents littering her desk, but her thoughts were too scattered to process them, her nerves, too frayed. _Your children. Yours._ The comment rattled around in her mind. Her four, beautiful little fire benders would always be _your children,_  Zuko’s children. If she had another with Tonraq, it’d be _his child_. She’d be caught somewhere in the middle— the mother whose firstborn wasn’t good enough, the wife who stepped out on her husband. No one would care that the Council forced her hand. No one would care if her husband got her back… and he could. She’d forgive him for it, even it if it was with Yue. 

Katara tried to ignore that sick, hot feeling in the pit of her belly, but she rubbed her fingers down her sternum anyway, and downed the last of her drink with a grimace. She was going to be gone for another week. She could come back dn Zuko could’ve—  _Fuck it._ She didn’t care if it was only noon. No one cared about _her._

Katara reached behind herself for the vodka, pouring another glass and gulping that down in a matter of seconds. 

Too warm and too agitated, she blew off her work and collected a coat from the rack by her door. Katara stepped out, locking the handle behind her, and turned to a guard, “If anyone asks, I’m working. No one’s to disturb me, not even the Prince.” 

* * *

The brunch with Yue was nice, but Zuko found himself wishing Katara was there the entire time. The stories Yue told, he knew his wife would have enjoyed hearing. She’d be laughing until her sides hurt. They always laughed like that, but it felt like recently, they’d been laughing less, and crying more. It hurt Zuko to think about, and to think about how he left Katara to storm off, all upset. The prince decided to go check on the queen then. 

When Zuko got to her office, the guards stood before, prohibiting him from entering. Zuko scowled at them, scoffing. “I’m the chieftess’ husband, now step aside,” Zuko hissed. “I have more say than you do, I will go in to see my wife, she did not prohibit me from entering. That’s a lie. She’s never ordered me out in our ten years of marriage,” Zuko spat, growing more frustrated to the point he was about to threaten them, when they succumbed. The guards trusted Zuko not to hurt her at least, and Zuko went to bang on the door. 

“Kat, love, let me in,” Zuko spoke, banging on the door. “It’s me,” he called. “Come on, Kat, don’t give me the silent treatment, please,” Zuko groaned, hitting the door stubbornly. “Katara… come on, at least tell me to go away, for La’s sake,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes in a huff. He turned to the guards stubbornly. 

“What if she’s hurt in there? Where is she?” Zuko demanded. “Is she in there? She wouldn’t just—” Zuko put his hand on his forehead. “Katara!” he shouted from behind the door. “Let me in, Kat! It’s _Zuko_!”

Zuko glared at the guards, then, not believing them, and worried for her. She never would just ignore him. She’d at least hiss at him to go away. She’d never just stay silent. Zuko then used his firebending to unlock the door, and pushed it open. His eyes scanned her office, and he looked under the desk worriedly. It’d be one thing if she went out in a mood, and didn’t tell him, but she locked the door like she was trying to hide something. It all felt strange. That intricate of a stunt didn’t seem like her, and Zuko glared at the guards once more. 

“ _Where_ is my wife?”

* * *

She pulled her hood up to hide her identity as she slipped out onto the streets. The day was bright, bringing shoppers and vendors outs; she blended in easily, another face in the faceless crowd. Katara studied the features of the few who met her gaze, grateful that none made a scene. Maybe her dark glare warned them off. 

For a while, Katara walked aimlessly. She had no responsibility like this, no one pulling her ear or forcing her will to their demands. Without the authority of her palace, her guards, her council, she was nothing to these people. Katara found it almost enjoyable. 

But, without a destination in mind, she ended up where she always did when she didn’t want to be seen crying: by the sea. Cold wind blew off the dark waves, but Katara didn’t mind. Her parents had been buried here; her brother would’ve been, too, if the Fire Nation had let them have his body. She felt close to them, she felt warm. Maybe it was just the vodka. 

Katara sat down on the lip of the cliff, letting her feet dangle off into nothingness. She pulled her cloak slightly tighter, then swiped the edge of it over her cheeks. It wasn’t any use. Tears she hadn’t felt come, now wouldn’t stop falling. 

“I’m going to lose him, Dad.” Her voice was hoarse, broken. “I can feel it in my gut. I’m going to lose him and my whole family, the only people I have left. They’re going to slip away… because I did what you taught me and put my nation first.” 

She closed her eyes, let anger wash over her. “Did you ever wonder, Dad? If maybe you’d put a little less importance on your country, and more importantance on your family… do you think Mom would still be alive? Do you think she’d still be here? Did you ever wonder that?”

_“I am._ I’m wondering.” Katara sounded more sure of herself, now. She opened her eyes and glared out over the ocean, wishing Hakoda were really here, so she could shout at him rather than waves. 

“I’m wondering if Mom were still here, if Sokka were here, if you hadn’t all left me behind, abandoned me—” A sob cut her off. Katara wiped her face furiously. “I wonder if I would’ve learned not abandon my own family!” 

She swallowed forcefully. More tears were coming and she couldn’t stop them, no matter how hard she tried. Katara bowed her head and let them fall. “I’m going to lose him,” she whispered bitterly, “but I guess that’s good news. It means I turned out just like you.  _Duty. Honor. Country.“_

* * *

Zuko didn’t want to jump the gun, but he was worried for his wife. He decided to give it until sundown to ask people to come out looking for her with him. It wasn’t like he thought she belonged on a leash, but he did like to know where she’d gone off to. Zuko asked Yue, and she hadn’t a clue, and he casually asked the children. Zuko began to get more and more worried that she was either unwell, or she was hiding her whereabouts intentionally from him. 

Zuko checked all her usual spots. He looked in the parlor, the kitchen, the dining room, their bedroom, each of the children’s rooms, the greenhouse gardens, Druk’s stables, her father and mother’s memorials, her brother’s memorial, everywhere he could think. She was nowhere in sight, and gone without a trace. 

When nightfall did finally come, Zuko gathered a few of the trusted guards to keep quiet about this, and help him find his wife. He left Pakku in charge of the children, and strew a coat and cloak over himself so he wouldn’t be recognized, and sent the guards to the more crowded areas. She had to be somewhere. She couldn’t have just _disappeared_.

There was one spot in the city’s outskirts, Zuko knew Katara liked to frequent. It was his last real hope for where to find her. He knew she liked the edge of the ocean, where her parents were sent off to sea upon their deaths. She felt like she could speak to them there. Zuko took his lantern, and tugged up his coat, wrapping his scarf around, and giving it the little tug Katara always did when she bundled him up. 

Zuko smiled in relief when he did spot her there, but a sadness tugged at him when he realized that she was there out of sadness, for sure. Zuko walked up behind her, and pulled the scarf from his mouth. It was freezing there with the ocean breeze, but she didn’t seem to care. Zuko set down the lantern, and sat beside her, sprouting a warm flame with his hand, and looking over at her, watching how the shadows danced on her face from his flame. 

“Kat?” Zuko said gently, moving his flame to his other hand to put the one nearest to her on her back. “Love, it’s getting late,” Zuko whispered, rubbing his back, but he sighed, shaking his head. “If we head back now, we can tuck the kids in, and head to bed… I can set on some tea, I’ll make your favorite,” he bribed. “Or… if you want to stay, I’ll stay here with you, and I’ll shut up if you want, too,” he said with a small chuckle. “Or if you want me to get lost, I can do that too… if you promise to be back before midnight, or else I’ll worry a sea serpent swallowed you whole,” he jested, “Though, I have the feeling you could fend him off, no matter his size,” Zuko said, laughing again gently. “Kat… you can talk to me, you know… even if it’s hard, or… or you’ll scared it’ll hurt me. This is hard, and painful… for both of us. You- You can still _talk to me_. I am your _husband_ … ‘til death do us part.”

* * *

Katara kept her head bowed. There were tears frozen to her cheeks; she could feel the ice crackling as she sniffled and blinked. “You weren’t supposed to find me,” she murmured, barely heard over the wind. “But, I guess that’s exactly why you did… you’re the only one who could’ve known where I’d be.” 

She laughed haltingly, then finally looked at her husband. “I’m tired,” Katara said, meeting Zuko’s gaze. If her eyes were as hollow as she felt, he didn’t react. “I’ll go back with you… I’m so tired.”

Katara watched as Zuko stood. He reached down to help her to her feet and she took his hand, letting his warm, gloved fingers wrap around her bare, frozen skin. She shivered; the cold was finally settling in her bones. Or, perhaps, she’d finally realized that she was completely alone. 

_I’m going to lose him,_ she thought, _like everyone else._ The words she’d sobbed over and over to the waves echoed in Katara’s ears. 

She could talk to him, Zuko said, but where did she start? How did she express her worries, her fears, when they all came back to wavering faith, to wilting trust? How could say she was scared, when he’d given his heart and let her run off with it? Katara felt selfish—

Everything she _did_ was selfish. She was draining Zuko like a leech and she had the audacity to be in pain? To be jealous and afraid? 

Katara bit down on her lip to hold in a sob, then she buried her face in Zuko’s chest. He was so good to her, so caring and trusting. He held fire in his palm and breathed it out into the night air, warming himself and her as he kept her close, trudging back towards the city. She didn’t deserve him, and Zuko didn’t deserve any of _this._

She lied, as soon as they were within the walls and out of reach of the howling wind. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to scare you or cause a panic,” Katara said. That wasn’t the lie, not yet. “It’s… _uh,_ close to my brother’s birthday and I just wanted to sit with him. I guess I lost track of time.” 

* * *

Zuko gave Katara his gloves, and wrapped his scarf around her the same way she always did for him. He gave her forehead a lingering kiss as flurries began to fall, and he walked with her until they reached home, back in the palace. It was then, as Zuko warmed his hands by the fireplace that Katara began to speak, and he looked to her with eyes as molten as the dwindling embers at his feet. 

“It’s okay, Kat,” Zuko replied genuinely. “I- I would’ve let you be alone, I just like to know where everyone is, is all,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s good to be able to clear your head… it’s peaceful out there,” he agreed, going over to the faucet to get some water, which he boiled with his firebending, and let the herbal tea steep in. 

“Katara, it’s March,” Zuko said, looking at her, catching her bluff. “I know Sokka’s birthday is in August. We go out to the ocean every year, and we sing his favorite song, and the kids send out paper boats because you tell them their Uncle Sokka loved going sailing for his birthday, when the weather warmed up…” Zuko whispered, exhaling shakily. 

“Kat… I _know_ you’re upset about going to the hut tomorrow,” he spoke hesitantly. “Or… you’re worried about us, or both…” he went on warily, then bringing her the cup of hot tea. “Please, don’t hide this from me, Kat… I… I’m _here_ , okay? Just… just know that… and _trust_ it, please.”

* * *

Katara stared at the cup of tea in her lap, watching the little tendrils of steam float up from it. She berated herself for such a stupid, transparent lie. “It’s not— it’s not the hut. It’s—“

She was unsure how to explain because, in a way, it _was_ the hut. But her fears weren’t what Zuko suspected. It wasn’t Tonraq, it was him; it was their marriage. It was _your children_ and smiles over brunch and bonding, because who could avoid that when there was the mutual pain of infidelity to share in?

Katara felt like crying, again. But her tears would just be pointless and selfish, so she held them back. “It’s not right for me to complain. I’m not the one being left behind or _cheated on,”_ she said. "I just have this sick feeling that I’m going to…“

That was enough. That was too much. She couldn’t place her burdens on him, not when he was hurting far more than her. Katara shifted on the couch, hoping she could somehow convince him she was still worth it.

"I don’t want to do this, Zuko.” She looked up, finding his soft gaze. “I hope you know that. I hope you _believe_ that. I don’t— What I want to do is hide away in our room, in our bed. I want _you_ claiming my body and I want my body to give _you_ another baby, but I can’t. I have to—” Katara shook her head. “I have to sleep with another man and I…”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to put on a mask and build up walls and bury who I am… It’s not me in there,” Katara insisted, looking at him. “The woman going into that hut with Tonraq isn’t me, but I’m scared that doesn’t matter, that it’s not enough.”

“I’m scared, the longer this goes on… you’ll leave me; maybe not physically, but emotionally. You’ll pull away and I’ll lose you, lose the kids— they’re _your kids_ , anyway. And the next one will be _Tonraq’s kid_. I’ll just be… the adulterous whore.”

Katara swallowed around the word, a painful lump in her throat. "I wouldn’t blame you, Zuko. If you left me or… I wouldn’t even blame you. I’d forgive you for it.“ 

* * *

“Kat,” Zuko said in hurt shock at her self-berating words. His face furrowed in concern and he set down his tea, and went to her, kneeling where she sat, before her. Zuko took her hands in her lap, and looked up at her with clear, concerned, honest, and loving eyes devoid of any deception or ill-will. “Don’t say such horrid things about yourself,” Zuko whispered, squeezing her hands. “ _Nobody_ talks about my wife like that,” he teased, a small, but somber smile curving his lips. 

He pulled his hand up to cup her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “I would never, ever leave you, Kat,” Zuko assured her. “I love you so much. I love you more than I could ever put into words,” Zuko emphasized. “The children are ours. They’re our babies, with their bright blue and amber eyes,” Zuko told her. “Agni, Kat, you’re their Mama. They love you more than life itself. You’re irreplaceable to me, and to them. I don’t want anyone else,” he promised. 

“Katara… I know you aren’t choosing to do this. I know in your heart that you aren’t cheating. I don’t think you’re cheating, Kat. You– You’re trying to save your country. You’re keeping our son safe, all our kids,” Zuko spoke. “Okay? I know. I promise. I can’t promise it won’t be painful, but you’re worth it, and our family is worth it, and I know you don’t want this. If the council were fine with it, I know Hakoda would be the crown prince,” Zuko assured her. “If what you’re worried about is me ever tiring of you, I can assure you with all I have in me you have absolutely no reason to worry,” Zuko explained patiently. “There is nothing on this earth I love more than you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You and our children are my entire everything, my first and foremost, I would sacrifice anything and everything for the good of you and the kids, Kat. Please, my love, _don’t worry_.”

 


	45. Chapter 45

_Don’t worry_ , Zuko said. _My love, don’t worry._

Katara looked down at their hands, calmed by his thumbs brushing over her knuckles soothingly. She willed herself to believe him, to believe his promises. He wasn’t going to leave. He was going to stay. He loved her with all of his being.

And she did, too. She loved him more than life; the only affection that even came close was the way she felt for each of her children, but that love was markedly different. She pulled her gaze up from her lap and leaned in, her forehead against his.

“You are mine,” Katara said, repeating their vows from a decade past. “I am yours.” She squeezed his fingers tighter, eyes closed. "I love you, Prince Zuko. Nothing changes that for me; not how we met, not how we came together, and not what we’re facing, now.“

Opening her eyes slightly, Katara moved her hands from his, feeling her way up his arms to cup his neck. Her fingers toyed in his hair. She stole a quiet moment to breathe him in before stealing a gentle kiss.

When she pulled back, Katara pecked his cheek, set her tea aside, then stood up. “I’m going to read to the children ‘til they fall asleep. Join me?” she asked, offering her hand. “After they’re down, we can… we can have some wine… and one more _good_ night.”

 

* * *

Zuko smiled, leaning in to kiss Katara, and snuggling against her affectionate embrace. He stood with her, and wrapped his arm around her back walking up to the kids’ play room together. Zuko poked his head into each child’s room, and called them into the play room. Zuko sat down in a rocking chair, and pulled Katara into his lap, and perched his head on her shoulder. 

She was all ready with a book in her hands, it was one from the Fire Nation about two dragons who fell in love. Zuko smirked, looking at all the artistry of the dragons’ land, but mostly his eyes were on his children. They had their blankets wrapped around their heads, and were clutching their pillows and stuffed animals. Eventually, midway through the story, the kids dozed off, and Zuko too had his head back against the chair, asleep. 

Katara gently woke him, and Zuko laughed softly before scooping the twins into his arms, while Katara carried little Iroh. Zuko tucked them in with a kiss, then went back to grab Hakoda, and did the same for him, his heart warm and full. He was always so happy to see his children, they kept him grounded. 

He returned to his own bed soon after to the other person who kept him grounded. Zuko smiled wearily at Katara, forced to face the reality of what lied just one sleep ahead. Zuko curled beneath the sheets with his wife, and held her close. The last thing he wanted was for her to go back with that damn Tonraq, and he knew she didn’t want to leave, either. Zuko pretended it was just another day, and pulled Katara over so her head rested on his chest, and eventually drifted off to sleep. 

When the morning came, Zuko brought Katara’s bag down to the pier, and he was brought back to that unsettling familiar feeling. It felt so wrong, and twisted in his gut like a knife. He felt stronger this time, but somehow, it seemed to hurt worse. He hated the uncertainty of how much longer this could go on. Zuko frowned deeply, and let out a deep and shaky sigh. But, he gave Katara a strong smile. 

He looked at Tonraq, and gave him a solemn nod of solidarity. “Be good to her, take care of her… even though she doesn’t need it… take care of her, and you better give her all she deserves, or as much as you can because neither of us are as good as Katara deserves,” Zuko said with a disheartened laugh. 

He turned back to Katara then and stepped into an embrace, holding her close and for a long time. Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his cheek to hers, not wanting to let go. He repeated the same sentiment, just as true, as before, “I love you so, _so_ much.”

 

* * *

 

“And I love you,” she whispered against his ear, lingering a moment longer to kiss his cheek, then his lips. Katara squeezed his hand as she dropped down to her heels and pulled away. “Come visit me… if you get lonely or if the kids need me… just, knock first.” She chuckled, but it didn’t match the solemn, torn look on her face. 

Katara’s gaze fell to the ground. Zuko’s hand fell away. She felt another brush on the small of her back and she turned into Tonraq’s embrace. He helped her up into the sled, along with her bags, and waved a goodbye to Zuko before snapping the reigns. The sleigh slipped through the palace’s back gates and Katara watched the shape of her husband fade. 

///////

Like the first time, their trip to the hut was uneventful. Katara sat in thoughtful silence and Tonraq didn’t pry her for any chatter. Maybe, like her, he needed the hour to find the right mindset. It was difficult, laying aside what lay behind her, but Katara wanted peace in this, at least. She didn’t want a repeat of their first trip, when she’d spent hours fighting the urge to vomit. 

The sled stopped a short distance from the hut and Tonraq helped her down, then inside. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had them change the sofa…” he rambled.

Katara closed the door behind them, kicking snow off her boots as her eyes flicked around the secluded room. The sofa was gone. He’d had a cot brought in its place, complete with extra blankets and pillows for his stay. When she looked at him, Tonraq’s grin was sheepish. 

“The sofa really isn’t that comfortable,” he said, dropping his bag on her bed. “I don’t want to be that guy who complains, so I—” 

“Oh?” She quirked a brow. “You’re complaining right now.” 

Tonraq scoffed. “Fine, fine…” he caved, eyes rolling her way. 

He went about his unpacking quietly after that, and Katara did the same. She was happy that the mood in the hut felt lighter, at least for now. Maybe she was better at compartmentalizing. Maybe she just hadn’t had time to worry. _Yet._ She pushed away those thoughts. 

With her things in drawers, Katara shed her boots and heavy clothing, comfortable in just a long-sleeved tunic now that her companion had a fire crackling. Katara then joined Tonraq at the stove. She set out two tea cups for them with a blend of leaves she brought, while he melted snow in a kettle and placed it over the flame. 

“This is probably one of those times being married to a firebender comes in handy,” Tonraq remarked absently. “Boiling water on demand. He can probably keep your tea warm, too.” 

“And my fingers, toes, and nose,” Katara smiled. “Zuko’s just… warm all around. He could probably last longer than any of us out in the snow, not that he’d want to try. _La_ , he’d be asking to die the entire time, actually. Ten years, and he still hates it.” 

 _“Hmph.”_ Tonraq’s head bobbed in acknowledgement. “Well, I guess it’s something you’re born into, can’t really acclimate to cold like this.” 

She shrugged. “I guess. I _am_ always sweating in the Fire Nation.” 

Tonraq nodded and pursed his lips. A somewhat thick silence found them. She looked around absently, wondering what Zuko was doing, now that he was on her mind. The kettle whistled loudly, breaking up her daydreaming. Katara startled and Tonraq laughed, pulling it off the stove and pouring the hot water into their cups. 

He pulled out a seat for her at the table, taking his, and lifted the drink to his lips. “This isn’t chamomile.” 

“Nope.” 

“Not so nervous this time?” he asked. “What if _I_ am?” 

Katara hummed an _I don’t know._ Her lips pressed together in a thin line, making Tonraq look at her with suspicion. Katara tried to play dumb, taking a sip of her own, but he lowered his cup.

“What is it?” 

“A lovely tea bled,” she insisted, blue eyes going wide and adamant. She’d been hoping he’d just drink it, maybe ask where all the energy came from later… or not at all. A blush spread across her cheeks

“I brought it from home,” Katara caved. “It’s a stimulant… for… bed. I figured we should try as much as we can. This is month _two_ out of the given six. This blend boosts libido and things.” 

“Oh.” Finally, it was Tonraq’s turn to pinken up. Katara took it as a victory… until he grumbled on about how he didn’t need any help and that his “bed manner” was just fine on its own, _thank you very much._

She huffed. “Oh, La. Are you that fragile? It helps with fertility and your _oh-so-brief_ refractory period between climaxes, _darling._ If you’re honestly that threatened by something that helps with hydration and recovery, then we’ll really have to discuss the kind of men in my Navy. Captain.” 

Katara gave him the most sarcastically sympathetic look she could muster, even go so far as bat her eyelashes at him, like he was some kind of damsel in distress. His face contorted into a scowl and Tonraq gulped the tea down, only to choke on it. 

“Oh, fuck.” His hand went to his throat. 

She laughed, her head thrown back. “Are you kidding me? In your quest to affirm your masculinity, you scalded your esophagus!” Her shoulders shook and she challenged him, “You did, didn’t you?” 

Tonraq looked like he was going to cry, all glassy-eyed and red. “Maybe?” 

“Well, what a start to the baby making.” Katara grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the bed. “Lay down. I’ll heal it. _Idiot._ ” 

 

* * *

 

He tried to laugh at her joke, but a bit of it stung– the image of Tonraq between her legs. Zuko instead gave Katara an encouraging smile, and tried to hide the glossing look that began to pool over his eyes. He felt so silly, tearing up for her to be gone but ten ten miles away for a week’s time. But, by the time she was out of sight, he already ached for her. 

Zuko’s heart hurt heavily. He thought he was grappling better, coming to terms with all of this better, and he truly believed he was. But, it was so painful to think of Tonraq even holding her hand, or brushing Katara’s hair. He didn’t want Tonraq to get to be close to her, all alone, so intimately, laughing with her. Zuko inhaled sharply, and pushed those thoughts from his head. 

He’d do what he did last time. Zuko would play with his children, take them out, have tea with Pakku, busy himself in work. 

He spent the whole day playing with his kids then, taking them out to go skating on a manmade, frozen lake. It was made shallow, for the kids to skate. Zuko always liked to err on the side of caution. It was his idea, but all the parents seemed to fuss over it the same way he had. Zuko smirked, remembering Katara’s face when he cut the tape on the little thing. It’d become somewhat of a community center. 

The kids had run Zuko down by the end of the day. He was tired, and dreading the night. The night was the worst. His stomach would tie into knots, and he’d be forced to think of them– Tonraq’s head in between her thighs, Katara clutching his shoulders, kissing— Zuko stopped himself. He smiled contently then, remembering his wife’s promise. She hadn’t kissed Tonraq, or held him, or slept beside him. At least that. Tonraq would never have marks along his neck that embarrassed him in the best way with her claim, and he’d never know how it felt to have Katara’s soft lips pepper his skin. 

Zuko felt somewhat better, but still nervous as he put the kids to bed after dinner, and he ran into Yue. 

“I just put my little troublemaker to bed,” Yue spoke, smiling at Zuko. 

“Yeah, I just put all four of mine to sleep. You should bring him ice skating next time. Nothing tires them out faster,” Zuko teased, and Yue smiled halfheartedly. 

“Katara’s gone again, isn’t she?” Yue asked quietly, leaning against the wall. Zuko sighed and looked away, nodding. 

Yue frowned at his response, “Come on, have a drink with me, Zuko.”

“Yue…” Zuko spoke, ready to decline. That felt wrong. Katara wasn’t even home. It felt like a line, though he was sure Yue hadn’t meant to draw it out. 

“Tea?” she spoke, pretending as though that was what she meant all along. Zuko smiled slightly at that, and conceded. 

He sat down then and let a servant pour them some tea in the seats he and Pakku sat in before. 

“You shouldn’t worry, Zuko. Katara loves you,” Yue spoke, stirring her tea. “She’s my best friend, I know her well. I know it hurts… it must hurt you worse, since you love her, but I get it. But… Katara doesn’t want to do this. She told me how much it hurts her. She loves you a lot, Zuko.”

Zuko smiled warmly, touched by Yue’s reminded sentiment of Katara’s feelings. He was about to reply, when he was interrupted by one of the servants who was washing the dishes. 

She snorted, and Zuko recognized her, it was Zae. The same woman who’d propositioned him last time Katara was gone. Zuko huffed, and rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, but she used to love Tonraq too,” Zae boasted. “She asked Chief Hakoda if they could marry… that’s when you came along and dashed her chances at marrying for love.”

Zuko didn’t believe Zae. She’d been trying to lure him to her chamber a few weeks ago. Zuko rolled his eyes, and looked at Yue who looked sheepish. 

“It was a long time ago… before she even knew of the treaty,” Yue verified quietly.

Zuko was taken aback. He hadn’t known Katara had been that close to marrying for love. She’d given the impression she’d never been in love; she’d told him that. Zuko suddenly felt guilty for breaking apart her relationship with Tonraq. Zuko was stunned then that ten years ago, when they’d first wed, she hadn’t secretly seen Tonraq. 

“Don’t forget the baby,” Zae added, smiling, loving the gossip. 

Zuko glanced at Yue. If Katara had a kid with Tonraq, Zuko was going to lose his mind. He’d march over there. 

“Chieftess Katara was impregnated… raped by a Fire Nation soldier, she was toying with the idea of raising the baby with Tonraq and marrying him, but gave the baby away instead,” Zae said with a shrug, and when Zuko looked slowly at Yue, she nodded, feeling ashamed of the conversation, and Zuko was too. 

“Zae, go home for the day,” Zuko growled. 

“But!” she cried. 

“I said– go home!” Zuko shouted, then anxious and frayed. A baby? Marrying Tonraq? It was so much she’d never told him. He knew of the atrocious, hideous things they’d done to her, but he knew nothing of a child– he knew nothing of this almost-wedding to the man she was fucking as he spoke. Zuko’s head was spinning, and he didn’t know where to start.

* * *

 

Katara spent a half hour healing the delicate tissues in Tonraq’s throat, and another scolding him for being so brash. It was only when he pushed her hands away, sat up on the bed with a grumpy frown, and demanded to be treated like a fully grown adult, that she gave up in her berating of him.

She did cross her arms though, and put on a frumpy scowl. “Well, I hope you feel all manly, now. I hope it was worth it.”

Exasperation emanated from him, but Katara sensed humor in his eyes. She was right. Tonraq flashed a grin before leaving the bed and retrieving her teacup. He handed it to her, then took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“It’s probably cold, now, but maybe you can prove your womanly wares by drinking it anyway.”

Katara glared at him. “I _like_ cold tea,” she said, forming cubes within the amber liquid and smirking pridefully. “It’s better this way, actually.”

“Good then. Finish it up, Cheiftess. We can have sex.”

“It’s working, then?”

“It might be,” Tonraq shrugged. “Or maybe it’s working on you… You did just spend an hour with your hands on me.“ He acted as though he was going to play indifferent, but when she loosened the sash on her tunic and titled her head to expose her neck, a breath hissed through his teeth.  

She smiled over her cup at his reaction. “That was purely medicinal, Captain.”

“Your sex tea disagrees.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

It was nightfall before Katara sighed satisfactorily and pulled the tousled blankets up to her chest. Her hair was tangled mess, half of it out of its braid from the endless cycle of romping then resting on top of the sheets. Her hips were sore and bruised, her skin overly sensitive and tender, and she swore the inside of her thighs were chaffed. 

Katara shoved Tonraq from the bed before he could pursue her again. “Go away.” 

"Finally decided I'm too much to handle?” Naturally, he chuckled as he stood. The muscles in his back tensed beneath taut, brown skin. He surreptitiously swept his hair from his shoulders so his biceps would flex, and winked at her over his shoulder. “Do you need some tea before you can take more of this?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Take you… _seriously?_ Your bare ass is staring me in the face.” 

“Then you know what greatness is.” 

 _“Fuck._ You are so full of yourself,” Katara laughed and sat up. “Hand me my tunic, will you? At least one of us should be clothed and well-mannered.“

Tonraq gathered her shirt and tossed it to her, then found his own clothing and redressed. She heard his stomach growl as he did; he padded over to the stove and the cabinets, rustling around for the bag of seal jerky he’d found during their last visit. However, sometime between his audacious display and tearing off a piece of dried meat, his demeanor changed. Tonraq straightened by the stove and swallowed the bite, brows knit together. 

“Katara, if my attitude is off putting, you can tell me to stop,” he offered. "I can be serious, if that’s what you want. I know this is still difficult for you; for me, too.”

“You’re fine, Tonraq. You’re funny.“ Katara peered at him curiously as she tied her tunic shut. Concern settled on her features. “Where did that come from? It… I mean, you’re right. It’s hard being here, being away from my family, but that doesn’t mean the air has to be tense. Are you worried I’m upset and keeping it from you?”

He shrugged. “Is that what you’re doing?” 

“No… I’m not upset, not how I was last time. I, _um.._.” Katara frowned. “I’ve found right the mindset, I think; the right way to separate this and be… okay. The Council didn’t leave me any choice, but I… I don’t know. I decided I’d do this on my terms. I’d come here and do what they wanted, but I’d also made sure _I_ felt good.” 

She pressed her lips together and looked away, mulling over how much more she should tell him. He wasn’t here to counsel her, but Katara wanted to make him understand exactly where her head was. "I talked to Zuko about it all, about what bothers me… That helped me a lot. He’s a great man, a trusting man. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t think Zuko expects me to lay here and cry while you force your way in.”

“F-force—“ Tonraq's expression went from worried to upset. He looked sick as his hand rubbed down his face. "Katara, you- _fuck_ , why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why didn’t— was I hurting you? I was hurting you?!”

Her eyes widened. “No. no, no that’s what I—”

“Did I force you? Katara, did I force myself on you? Is that why… the tea? Did you bring that tea so you’d respond to me? So you wouldn’t- Are— Am I…?”

“Tonraq, stop!“ She got up on her knees on the bed, bewildered. "Why are you freaking out? You know neither of us would be here if it weren’t for the Council’s involvement. It was just an expression!”

“Because, it’s not, Katara! It’s not, not from you, especially.” His jaw set. Katara watched as he seemed to struggle for words, and she slowly sank back to her haunches.

“You went through it,” Tonraq said. His voice was measurably softer now, and it sent her back to when she was seventeen, to when he was ordered by her father to look after her, to when he’d sit by the fire with her all night and tell her stories because she couldn’t sleep without waking up, without screaming.

Katara looked down at the blankets as Tonraq spoke. "You came home from the warfront and I watched you struggle because of it. Those soldiers hurt you; I promised you no one would ever again, and if I’m… if I’m hurting you now, I’ll never forgive myself.” 

“That wasn’t a promise I asked you to make,” she argued. "I was just a stupid girl with stupid dreams and it got me into—“

"Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Tonraq snapped, eyes flashing. “You weren’t stupid, you were _brave_. You went through _hell,_ and it was my job to look out for you when you came home, because no one else was. The women on the staff would whisper and the men would jeer and your father spent half his time mumbling about the fight it would be to find a proper match for his pregnant daughter. That’s all anyone worried about; not you, not your baby, not your well-being—”

“Tonraq,” Katara cut him off, her look imploring. "It was fourteen years ago. I’m okay, now.“

He shook his head, not believing her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded firmly. “I’m perfectly fine. I feel perfectly safe. That’s why I asked _you,_ Tonraq. That’s why, when Zuko found out I was going to let the Council pick someone, he told me to stay with you.” She caught the question in his eyes and elaborated. “He was… upset when he learned about some of our history. The Council had proposed more of a _come-and-go_ thing, but Zuko found the list of men and was more upset by that idea than letting you father my baby. He trusts you to be good to me, and more importantly, _I trust you_. So stop panicking.”

“Okay… okay.” Tonraq took a deep breath. His eyes were clouded by the past, and he struggled to visibly relax. He had a white-knuckle grip on one of the kitchen chairs.

Katara sighed and left the bed, going to him. She took his hand with a gentle smile. “I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable, Tonraq. You know I’ve never had an issue blurting my thoughts.”

“Yeah,” His chuckle didn’t match his face. “Just… tell me if I’m not being good, okay? Don’t… please don’t just lay there. Tell me to stop.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

She nodded, “Yes. Don’t worry.”

With another breath, Tonraq’s shoulders dropped markedly. Since he seemed more relaxed, Katara let go of his hand and went back to the bed, the bag of jerky going with her.

Tonraq followed. His weight made the mattress dip; her knees tilted towards him and he draped an arm over her legs. “Has Zuko always been good to you?” he asked. "Even at the beginning?“

"Yes,” Katara said. “Before he found out what happened to me, and after. Like I said, he’s warm everywhere, even in his soul.”

“Does he know about Aliya?”

Katara looked away. There was a secret no one had a privilege to, aside from the man sitting beside her. When she’d come home after three years of traveling, pregnant and broken, her father had let her hide away in the palace. A group of handpicked soldiers were in charge of watching her, and only three servants were allowed in and out of her quarters.

Everyone was careful to keep the secret because, as Tonraq had said, her father was worried about her worth as a match. A baby out of wedlock, even through circumstances like her own, brought nothing but disgrace to her royal status. _Honor. Duty. Country._ None of those included a child at seventeen.

After she’d given birth, her father arranged for a family to adopt the girl. The family was promised money and influence in exchange for their silence, and Hakoda quickly spread the rumor that Katara had simply fallen ill for seven months. Tonraq was the only one left with any knowledge of Aliya.

“No,” Katara answered finally. "Zuko wouldn't even know I’d been raped if his cousin hadn’t… pissed me off. Hell of a way to let a guy know about your rough past, shouting it next to a river,“ she scoffed. "And we’d only been married two months. I couldn’t just… _announce_ that I had a daughter, too. Then, the months turned into years and I learned more about him and…”

She lifted her head and her voice cracked. "His mother left him, Tonraq. His father abused him and his uncle sent him here like a piece of property.“ Katara felt her eyes begin to sting. There was nothing she ever wanted more than to tell her husband everything, to be completely open about what she’d faced, but there was so much guilt tied up in it and she feared Zuko's reaction. Even after ten years. She was afraid he’d hate her.

"How do I tell him? How do I tell someone I love that I’m just like his mother? I’m guilty of abandoning a child, too.” Katara swallowed, and the tears she was holding in slipped down her cheeks.

Tonraq immediately noticed. The hand tickling her thigh brushed her cheek, wiping at the tears as they fell. She knew she shouldn’t let him, but at that moment, she wasn’t strong enough to resist him. Tonraq pulled her into his lap, tucking her head under his chin, and stroked her hair.

“Katara, you didn’t abandon her,” he whispered.

She choked on a sob. “Didn’t I? Won’t he see it that way? I could’ve kept her. I could’ve fought for her and I didn’t. I don’t even have a relationship with her!”

“Shh. _Shhh…_ You didn’t abandon her, Katara. You gave her the best life you could. You gave her happiness and freedom. She’s happy, isn’t she?” Tonraq’s hands left her hair, dropping around her waist as he settled back against the bed’s headboard. “Aliya’s happy, Katara. She’s a beautiful fourteen-year-old girl and you’re a wonderful mother. You did the best you could.”

Katara didn’t say anything, but she shook her head, softly protesting. Tonraq, of course, kept whispering reassurances, telling her what he could. He was there in the immediate aftermath; he understood. She still felt uneasy, and she stayed tucked in his embrace until the soothing tickle of his fingers down her back lulled her off to sleep.

* * *

Yue followed Zuko as he stood up, and walked over to the window. He asked the other servant who’d made tea to leave the room. He didn’t want any more of this spread when Katara had forbidden it from even her husband’s ears. Yue assumed that was what bothered Zuko the most. She was wrong. 

“Zuko… it was fourteen years ago. It didn’t mean anything,” Yue spoke, “Tonraq I mean… Katara didn’t choose to get pregnant… that was her worst nightmare, and Tonraq pulled her through it.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Zuko snapped, then quieted, apologizing to the princess. “I can’t believe… who would do that? I can’t believe she went through that. I can’t… I can’t believe that after all the horror she went through, it didn’t end there. She had to hide out for months… like she did anything wrong,” Zuko ranted, tears pooling in his eyes. “If I met that man, who touched her, who dared lay his disgusting hands on my wife, I’d kill him. I’d kill him dead with my bare hands,” Zuko hissed, and Yue put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“I know, Zuko,” whispered Yue. “I hate him too… Katara is my best friend,” Yue consoled. 

“And… how– how could she tell Tonraq, and you, but not me? We’ve been married for ten years… and she’s never told me this. Doesn’t she trust me? Katara knows of every horrible thing that’s ever happened to me. I trusted her with things no one else knows. She knows everything about me. She knows the things that have me pulled from my sleep in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I trusted her with all of it,” Zuko spoke. 

“And… dammit… I feel guilty, but… something in me hurts for the baby. The baby was innocent, and… Katara’s the mom… and… I know– I know it’s different. She didn’t choose… anything, and… the baby is likely happier in the life he or she has now than they’d be like that, and… it’d be impossible for Katara to cope with that… and… but I don’t know. It hurts,” Zuko tried to explain, but Yue wasn’t Katara. She didn’t know any of the intricacies of his soul or past. Zuko had reserved those just for his wife. That was something that went unrequited. 

“It’s a girl,” whispered Yue, rubbing Zuko’s back in comfort. “Katara gave Aliya away with love, Zuko, but… you’re not wrong, it’s complicated.”

“My entire life is more convoluted than a labyrinth, Yue,” Zuko muttered brokenly. He was stressed, too, how she was going to run off and marry Tonraq. Up until they wed, she loved Tonraq. That was another secret Zuko never learned until recently. She promised him their wedding night he hadn’t stolen her away from someone she loved. She never, later, when she said she loved Zuko, told the truth. 

“I’m going to bed, Yue. Goodnight.”


	46. Chapter 46

Katara woke up to an empty bed and the soft rumble of Tonraq’s breathing from his cot. Her eyes adjusted to the low, early morning light as she blinked, looking over the hearth first, then following the line of Tonraq’s spine down his frame.

 _How the hell did he sleep half-naked with only a thin blanket?_ She scoffed, stretching, and climbed out of bed into her slippers.

Quietly, Katara padded to the stove to put on tea, then went to the hut’s door and checked outside. Like usual, a basket had been placed on the snow-covered stoop. She brought it in and unwrapped it, revealing fresh fruit and some warm pastries for breakfast. Katara picked a peach tart and nibbled on it with a hum.

He must’ve caught the scent or her tune. Tonraq stirred with a muted groan and rolled to his stomach, his head lifted and turned in her direction.

“Breakfast?” his voice croaked with sleep, making her smile.

Katara held out the basket to him as he sat up. “Yeah, sweet stuff; to help you watch your figure and all that.”

“As if my figure needs watching,” Tonraq growled, setting the treats in his lap. He glanced them over, then selected something with almonds and glaze before standing and putting the basket on the table. “Did you sleep okay?”

 _“Mhm._ Just fine.” She nodded, a trickle of embarrassment running down her back. The last thing Katara remembered was sobbing into his neck; it wasn’t something she really wanted to relive or…. talk about with him.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the kettle started whistling, and turned away.

“More sex tea?” Tonraq asked. He was by her side then, swallowing the last of his pastry and rinsing out their cups from yesterday. His fingers flicked the leftover water away from the china, and he set the cups down for Katara.

She dropped in the tea bags and poured the hot water over them. “Just black tea, for now. I kind of want to go to the springs for a while… I’m sore. From everything.”

“Are you?” Tonraq moved behind her, and his hands settled on her shoulders, gently coaxing some of the knots loose for a few minutes. Then, she felt his breath on her neck, and his warmth as his body pressed against her back. Katara swallowed when he nipped her ear. "Was I too rough?“

"Well, I like it a little rough…”

 _“Hm,”_ was all Tonraq said, just a little puff of sound before his lips moved down her neck. His left hand tugged at her collar, pulling it off her shoulder. His right hand ran down her spine, then around her front, skimming up her belly to grope her exposed breast. 

Katara gasped, and Tonraq responded with a shape bite into her shoulder blade. The hand tugging on her tunic pulled it open all the way, settling on her hips before turning her around. She looked at him with wide eyes, parted lips.

“What are you doing? I just made tea.” Her breath was annoyingly ragged.

“I don’t want tea. I want breakfast… and you want it a little rough." His fingers trailed from her sternum to her stomach, then lower. He tugged the neatly-groomed curls between her legs, grinning, before his fingertips slipped into her slick sex and they both sighed.

His thumb circled her clit, and eventually, his mouth followed the path of her fingers until he was on his knees in front of her. Tonraq lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his shoulder. His eyes flicked up as he kissed her thighs, then his nose nuzzled her sex and he groaned.

"I changed my mind. I want to be a little soft,” he murmured, holding her steady with his hands on her ass. His tongue lapped at her, making Katara tremble and keen. “A little soft, a little slow…how’s that sound?”  

She nodded fervently, struggling for stability with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the edge of the countertop. It wasn’t easy with the torment of his tongue. Tonraq only made it worse. His fingers filled her, curled and pumped and brought her right to the cusp of an orgasm that had her shaking, bucking into his chin.

He pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue, letting her tug his hair, letting her rut against the flat of his tongue and rock into his chin. Katara breathed his name over and over, until her breath caught and her climax washed over her with an incoherent whine.

Katara panted through it, tremors running through her limbs. She’d hardly come down from the high when Tonraq began kissing up her body and pulling down his pants. His lips left a glistening trail on her skin. His cock rubbed her swollen clit. The leg he’d draped over his shoulder now sat on his hip. His hands gripped her ass and Tonraq lifted her, coaxing her other leg to wrap around him.

She locked her ankles behind his waist, wrapped her arms around his neck. Her weight sank down as Tonraq’s hands journeyed up her back and spread out on her skin. A moaned curse ripped from his throat as their hips met and Katara’s stretched around him.

“Fuck. _Fuck,_ Tonraq.” She tried to move, tried to make him thrust up into her, but true to his promise, they went slow. He lifted her, lowered her, made her agonize for every inch with astounding control— _she_ lost all control, though.

Katara came around him, eyes closed, completely unaware. She only realized they’d gone to the bed when he pulled out of her and rolled her onto her stomach. She wasn’t aching for him for long; Tonraq settled behind her, his knees pushing hers wider, and it was only a short second before he sank into her again.

He moved quickly now, dusting her shoulders in kisses and nips, breathing roughly into the nape of her neck. Tonraq lifted her hips and brought her up to her knees, teasing her breasts, making quick, little circles between her legs until she was twitching and begging. Katara gripped the sheets and she fell apart, a hoarse, broken rendition of Tonraq’s name becoming lost somewhere in the fray. 

Eventually, the world righted itself. Her breath was slow enough. Katara no longer felt dizzy. She hummed low in her throat and flexed her hips, appreciating the mix of soreness and fullness as reality settled in.

 _“Damn,”_  Tonraq’s lips moved against her neck, then he lifted his head. “It’s been a decade since I’ve made you come like that.”

“It’s been a decade since anyone’s made me come like that.”

He laughed as he pulled away. “Want me to teach Zuko?”

“I don’t think he’d take kindly to that. _At all,”_ Katara rolled away from the wet sheets and shot him a warning look. Then, her eyes softened. "Besides, I like Zuko’s style. He’s very giving, very attentive… and I’m always in charge.“

"Oh? Bossy in bed, huh? I can’t picture it.”

Katara squinted. “Give me my clothes, Captain, and take me to the springs. Thanks to you, I _need_ a bath.”

///////

They spent the rest of the morning steaming away aches and pains, only returning to the hut when the rumbling in their stomachs couldn’t be ignored. A second basket waited from them, and Katara rummaged through for sweets before settling in a chair at the table with a book.

She read for an hour or two while Tonraq pursued waterbending scrolls. Katara was happy in their comfortable silence. She imagined something worse with a man she didn’t know, either tense awkwardness or forced conversation. Or maybe the man would’ve been demanding, and the casual, comfortable build up that led to sex with Tonraq would be non-existent.

Katara looked up from her book, glancing over at him, then lost her train of thought out the window. Her thoughts wandered over the snow, back home, where she imagined Zuko playing with the kids on the palace grounds or maybe riffling through her office for work to do. He was always so good to her, even when she was gone. Katara smiled privately, wishing she could see him.

“What are you smirking about?” Tonraq interrupted.

“Oh, nothing.” She shrugged, pretending to be interested in her book, again. But her eyes drifted to the window and Katara sighed. "I’m just wondering what the kids are doing… and Zuko…“

"You miss them. Do you want to go back and see them for dinner? I can prep the sleigh.”

Katara shook her head. “No. No… I shouldn’t. I might not want to leave.”

“Or…” She sensed his eyes on her, studying her. Katara tried to hide the guilt that plagued her stomach, but she ultimately failed. "You’re afraid he might not want you back.“

She turned a glare in Tonraq’s direction. "Don’t read my face.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” His hands went up in defense, but she knew he wasn’t giving it up. "If you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you…“

"You’re right there.”

“Trapped here, really.”

Katara rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. It fell rather quickly, her pensive stare returning.

“I’m just scared we’ll never be the same,” she said. She looked down at her hands and twirled the gold ring on her left finger. “It’s hard enough, letting me leave for a week, but… I’ll have a baby. _Your_ baby. I don’t know how Zuko’s going to handle that.” Katara paused and found Tonraq’s gaze. “Then, there’s you.”

“What about me?”

She shrugged. “If you want a relationship with your child, and I imagine you do… I won’t stop you, Tonraq. I _couldn’t_ stop you.”

An unexpected sigh left him. Katara watched his face darken, then fall. His eyes drifted over the scrolls on the bed, but she could tell he wasn’t seeing them.

“Tonraq?” she prodded gently.

“I don’t know. It feels… complicated,” he said, lifting his head. “I mean, what do I do? I live in the palace like you said, work there, see my kid everyday… and watch you spend your life with someone who would’ve been me, if I’d only crossed that line sooner.”

“You can’t think like that. You don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Tonraq snorted. “I know you would’ve gone to your father earlier, before the treaty was decided or even in the works, and he would’ve said yes. I was a good match for you. I was well up in the ranks of the Navy, and at twenty-seven, no less.”

“He could’ve said no, too. Just as easily! The Fire Nation was losing _terribly_  and I was his only living heir,” Katara argued, frustrated and angry now. “I was all but destined to be married off, Tonraq. Asking for your hand was a long shot.”

Anger flashed darkly in his eyes. “A long shot. Really?”

“That’s not what I meant, I just— You’re not thinking this through. I don’t think it would’ve worked no matter—”

 "Goddammit, Katara. _Goddammit!“_ He cut her off with his curse, stood abruptly. The scrolls around him crumbled, or fell off the bed, but Tonraq didn’t even glance at them. His focus was on the floor, on the clothes strewn around. He found his pants, dragged them on, then stomped into his boots.

"Where are you going?” She asked.

Tonraq ignored her. “It’s not fair, you know? You act like this is so easy for me, like I’ll just do whatever you expect, whatever the fuck you want.” His movements were abrupt as he pulled on a fur cloak. “It’s not that simple, Katara!”

She stared at him with shock and hurt all over her features, but Tonraq just shook his head. When he stomped out the door and slammed it shut, the hut quaked.

* * *

The night was long and difficult. Something about knowing of the prior relationship Katara had with Tonraq, and how deep it went, and how she hadn’t told him of it before she went to sleep with him– try for a baby with him. If that treaty had never been written into law, Katara would be married to Tonraq right now. They might have kids, waterbenders of their own, and Hakoda would still be alive. 

Zuko locked the door behind him, and told the guards that only his children were allowed by to so much as knock for anything but emergencies. Tonraq was all but Katara’s fiancé, and a man she’d chosen. Zuko knew they’d had a relationship, but he didn’t know it ran so deep. Tonraq had pulled her through something so horrible, and stuck by her the entire time. Which, at least, put Zuko at ease. It meant Tonraq would be good to her. But, now he was sick to his stomach, wondering if he’d be too good. 

Zuko ran his hand over the comforter Katara had woven for him with all the Fire Nation imprints, and he looked up, seeing the painting he’d made of her and the children, but he hadn’t included himself in the artwork. That seemed painfully reminiscent now. Zuko inhaled a sharp sob that caught him off guard, then. He bit his lip to quiet himself, but the tears came heavily and his shoulders wracked. 

Zuko sat on the bed, and looked at his wife’s dresser. Doubts filled his mind. He’d felt so much more confident after the week that had passed, but this had shaken everything. She almost married Tonraq. She wouldn’t be having an illegitimate child with him now, she’d have a bunch of them, if it weren’t for him. Then again, was it their children now that were illegitimate? They were the ones prohibited from the throne. The council thought he was worthless, and the children were worthless, too. They’d have heirs with plenty of spares if Katara had never married him. Then again, they’d never have their beautiful children, and he knew, unwaveringly, that she would not trade their babies for the world. That put a sad smile on Zuko’s face as tears rolled off his chin. 

He wondered if Katara ever made the same promises to Tonraq that she did to him. Zuko wondered painfully if Katara used to promise Tonraq, when they were all but engaged in their hearts, that he was her one and only. Was Tonraq her everything, too? Did she call Tonraq the love of her life at one point? Did she tell him that he was her soul mate? Did she once tell Tonraq that he was her best friend? Did she give Tonraq every piece of her soul? Feel entirely open and safe with him, too? It seemed like she might have felt safer and more open with Tonraq than she was with him. Tonraq knew of the baby. Zuko felt sick to his stomach. He wished Katara had told him this: about Tonraq’s deeper relationship with her. 

Not that it would have mattered. He still wanted her with Tonraq as opposed to being with a stranger who would make her feel uncomfortable, afraid, upset, or used. But, it still made him fear that if Tonraq did have those things, and Katara was spending weeks at a time with him, and if this kept going on– it could for a year– it felt like only a matter of time before those feelings she once held resurfaced while they bantered and had tea and sex, alone together for a week. 

Zuko’s head fell to the pillow, and he closed his eyes, his breath coming out shakily as tears rolled off his nose. He was glad to be able to cry without anyone there to worry about. Though, he silenced himself, lest not the guards hear. He did wish Katara was there desperately. Zuko strew his hand over her spot on the bed, and it ached. It hurt him that she chose to stay out there all night. She could easily have sex all day and come home to him, to their bed, their room, their home, and their children, but she choose to spend the nights with Tonraq instead. 

Zuko was flooded with nerves, thinking about, not only that, but all his wife had been through, besides the point of her not telling him. It hurt him to think Katara had suffered so. He couldn’t imagine having to carry a baby from a man who’d violated her. He thought of the baby, but thinking of all the horrors she’d been subjected to, and the lack of choice… he agreed that giving the baby up to another loving home was probably the most loving thing she could have done for that child as her mother. Did Katara not trust him with that part of her soul? Did she not trust him, her husband of ten years? Zuko began to worry he wasn’t a good husband, then. Had he hurt her all these years? Made her feel like she couldn’t be her whole self? He always felt more safe and comfortably just Zuko with her than he ever had in his life. He prayed he did the same for her. He prayed he did it better than the man whose bed she was warming now. 

When the sun rose, peaking through the curtains, Zuko hadn’t slept a wink. He knew he must’ve looked terrible. He looked in the mirror, and his unscarred eye was puffy, and his whole face was pink and stuffy. His eyes had bags under them, too, and he only could bring himself to smile when the children came into the room, still laughing and smiling as they jumped all over them. Zuko wished Katara was there. 

He made the kids breakfast, and drank his tea, and wondered if Katara was enjoying hers with Tonraq. He wondered if his company was more entertaining. What if she was sick of talking to him for ten years, and Tonraq made her laugh more? What if Tonraq made her smile more? What if he was just more– a better man than Zuko could ever be? 

Zuko tried to swallow the ache in his chest with his gulps of tea, and kissed the kids goodbye to go off to their tutors. Zuko went down to Katara’s office, then, to see if she had any paperwork that was piling on in her absence. He spent the day filling those forms out in between worried, distracting daydreams of Katara in Tonraq’s arms as one thing lead to another… how could she have sex with Tonraq, a man she wanted to marry, who she loved, and spent a week alone with in a romantic hut, and never feel anything? He trusted Katara, and believed every word she promised him, but the heart could be fickle, and if she fell for Tonraq, it wasn’t like she could tell her heart to fuck off. 

Zuko set the quill pen down and leaned his face into his palms when he heard footsteps. 

“You aren’t the Cheiftess,” spoke Yue, knocking, but walking in anyway. Zuko sat his head up, and looked at her, and Yue did a double take. 

“Agni, Zuko, you look horrible,” Yue whispered. 

“Thanks, good morning to you too,” he grumbled back. 

“I’m serious, what happened last night? What’s the matter with you?” she asked. 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he grumbled. 

“You’re not… Zuko, you can tell me. I’m Katara’s best friend, so that makes us best-friends-in-law. You’re my friend too… do you want me to get her? Are you all right?” she pressed. 

“I’m fine, and no– Katara has so much going on over there. I’m not going to pester her because I’m jealous. Obviously, I’m going to be jealous that my wife is having sex with another man… one she apparently once almost married, but that’s besides the point,” Zuko said with an exasperated sigh. 

“I didn’t love Lu Ten, but I know what you mean… he was still my husband. He thought I was too dumb to know, but I’d watch him go off with Su, and I felt like nothing every time,” she whispered, her eyes glazing over, “Like, I wasn’t the mother of his children… but then again, I guess Su was too… the kids that he loved more.”

Zuko shook his head, his tears glazing over, cranky and oversensitive from the lack of sleep. “Katara doesn’t want this… don’t compare it to what my cousin did to you, Yue… I’m sorry he did that, I am… I feel horrible… but this isn’t the same. Katara is only doing this for the Water Tribe. I know she wouldn’t do this to me otherwise. If we were just any other family, living here, she’d never have done this… we’d be so normal… we’d be so happy… everything would be fine.”

“I know, Zuko. I didn’t mean to imply so… I was only trying to empathize with your situation. I love Katara like a sister. I would never try to disparage her, to her husband no less,” Yue spoke, then smiling fondly, “I know how much you love Katara. You’re a good man… a good husband… a good father. I think Katara’s lucky— not… not like _that_ … just, I wish Lu Ten could have been as good a man as you are. His father is so much kinder, and yours was awful, but look at you? You’re a good man… a genuinely kind and loving, selfless man, but Lu Ten… he’s selfish and cold… and treated me like I was nothing,” Yue murmured, and Zuko frowned, wanting to club his cousin’s head in that moment. 

“I’m sorry he treated you so terribly, Yue… I really never thought he would,” Zuko apologized. 

“I’m sorry, too.”

* * *

Katara waited in apprehensive stillness late into the afternoon. Her fingers knotted in her lap. Her eyes darted from the floor, to the door, to the window, her head fraught with worries. _Should she go after him?_ By the time darkness spread over the snow, she was up and pacing, hands cording through her hair and snarling on her tangled curls.

He hadn’t left, had he? He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? Not after he’d witnessed the visceral reaction she had to just  _the idea_ of anyone but him. Would he really abandon her to that? Her stomach twisted, sank, and Katara felt like she was going to be sick. _Fuck._ If Tonraq was gone, _done—_ she was out of options. It was that list of single bachelors or nothing: no crown, no power, no tribe.

A tremor ran up her spine, triggering a spasm of pain around her ribcage as she fought a sob. It came out choked; her eyes stung fiercely, and she swiped at her face, leaving angry, red streaks on her cheeks.

Katara gave up on patience and rummaged for her boots and her cloak. She was just pulling the laces tight when the door creaked open. She looked over her shoulder, finding a sheepish looking Tonraq with a wind-bitten nose and snow-covered clothes.

“You came back,” she breathed. Relief flooded her veins, unexpected. It made her feel guilty. She shouldn’t want him like that… but it was him or a stranger, so Katara pushed down the shame. “I was just about to go searching for you.”

Tonraq pressed his lips together, glancing around. “It’s… storming out. Probably better you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

A beat of silence landed on them. Katara kicked off the one boot she had on and stood up. How to make up with him? She knew she needed to, but the air was tense and the simplistic understanding, the ease, she found with Zuko was non-existent.

Katara shifted awkwardly, jerking a hand towards the kettle. “Can I make you tea? Food? The dinner basket came while you were gone. Or… do you want to lay down and warm up?”

Tonraq shook his head. He discarded his cloak and hung it up, lingering near the door for a moment longer before walking towards her. He sat down in the kitchen chair, looking up at her. "I- I want to apologize, actually. I shouldn’t have stormed out.“

"It’s fine. Everyone needs a walk sometimes.”

“That’s true, for others. We don’t exactly have years of trust that allow us to remain grounded after an angry departure and three hour walk.”

Katara looked down at her feet, folding her arms. She was close enough to Tonraq that he reached for her, his fingers wrapping around her forearm, and coaxed her hands back down to her sides. He held her wrists gently, then his touch tickled her palms and he twined her fingers with his.

“Katara.” His eyes were soft, melting away the panic she’d felt minutes earlier. “I really am sorry. Even if getting out and getting some air was necessary, I should’ve told you I'd come back.”

She growled with a sudden pang of irritation. “Yeah, it’d be nice to know if I’m going to be held down by some man I don’t know.” Her gaze landed on the ground, then she sighed when Tonraq hissed through his nose. There was no benefit to verbally wounding him.

“I’m sorry, too,” Katara said, finally looking up. “I know it’s not fair, that _I’m_ not being fair. I need to listen to you and… You’re right. I can’t expect you to do what I want. It has to be your decision, whether you stay here or go, whether you know your child or, essentially, let Zuko adopt the baby. He’ll be a good father. I think we both know that… So, it’s up to you. It’s whatever you want.”

“Well… I’m seeing this through.” Tonraq released one of her hands and gestured between them. Then, his touch returned to her, settling on her hip. “In a convoluted way, I’m on Zuko’s team about that. I don’t want to, and I _will not_ , put you through the experience your Council has in mind.”

“But…?” Katara prompted, she could sense it in the pregnant pause.

Tonraq sighed heavily. The hand on her hip slid to her belly, flattening out. “I can’t say what I’ll do when there’s a baby. Not yet; it’s not real, yet.”

“Right now, there’s a selfish part of me that wants to walk away as soon as you’re with child,” he went on. “I want a normal life: sailing, trading, pining for you from afar…" A slight chuckle huffed in his chest, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I just, _um…_ A lot will change with a baby, my whole life. I’ll need some time to think about it, to make up my mind. I hope you can give that to me.”  

Katara nodded, slowly at first, then fervently. She felt terrible. “Of course, Tonraq. I’m sorry you even have to ask. Whatever time you need, it’s yours. If you need to go brood in the snow, by all means, go brood.”

He laughed. This time it was genuine, and Katara knew the rougher part of their day had passed them. A weight lifted from her chest, a deep breath filled her. She was able to laugh with him, even smirk, when he grumbled:

“I don’t brood.”

“Oh please,” Katara teased. “You’re as bad as Zuko with the sad, longing stares, the heavy silences, the pensive looks…  _La._ Do I have a type, or do I have a type?”

“Are you admitting I’m still your type?”

“I’m admitting I have a type— but, my one and _only_ brooder is at home, probably staring out a window and thinking up all the ways he could murder you.”

“Would you let him?” Tonraq asked.

Katara pretended to consider it, long enough to make him scoff, then she winked. She pulled away from him. “Do you want tea, now? You still look cold.” 

“I seem to remember an offer of laying down and warming up…?”

“I meant _alone,”_ Katara remarked, squinting at him. “You know, by yourself, with a blanket and your own body heat.”

Tonraq stood up, a playful smile on his lips as he came towards her. “Well, I could certainly handle it alone…” He squeezed her biceps, then his hands slid up to her neck, his thumbs under her jaw to tilt her head back. “…if you don’t mind random grunts and hissed versions of your name.” His nose bumped hers, and he was already pulling her towards the bed. “It’s just so much more fun with a partner.”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want me to send for her?” Yue asked quietly. “She’d come, if you asked,” Yue encouraged. 

“I want her here, but I don’t want to ask,” Zuko replied, staring at the papers blankly. He was too exhausted to focus on them anymore, and his heart was too heavy, distracting him. “I don’t want her upset, and she has this… routine, or whatever… and I don’t want to disrupt that like I did last time.”

“I’m sorry my son’s death was such a disruption,” snapped Yue, and Zuko blanched, shaking his head in sympathy.

“Yue,” whispered Zuko, “Agni, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Zuko spoke. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead either way,” Yue said, biting her lip to hold in a sob, “Sorry,” she croaked, and Zuko watched in sympathy, not knowing what to do. All of his issues suddenly seemed so minimal. He’d let Tonraq marry Katara, and have Katara say she never loved him if it meant keeping his kids alive. Nothing– nothing in the entire world was worse than that. Yue had endured the worst thing on earth, and it reminded him of why Katara was doing what she had to. That couldn’t ever happen to Hakoda. Ever. 

“I know Arnook is looking down on you with so much love, Yue,” Zuko spoke sincerely, letting out a shaky breath as his thoughts returned to his wife. His greatest fear, more than the sex, was that in between it all she’d catch feelings for Tonraq. Tonraq was probably more fun for her to talk to– and sleep with. It was almost new, but still familiar at the same time. She had a connection with him that Zuko could see resurfaced, like no time had passed. That was a special bond. She’d been with Zuko for over ten years… what if she grew bored with him in favor of Tonraq, who was shiny and new? But yet, still, a man she once loved, and what Zuko feared, she could love again. 

Both of them sat their in an awkward, piercing silence. They both were trapped in their own pain. He missed Katara. The silence was never piercing with her. He could stare at her for minutes straight, and they’d just start laughing. He wondered if she and Tonraq could do that together. He wondered if Katara was thinking about him at all. 

“Excuse me, Yue… I’m sorry, I- I have to go pick up my children. I do every day, they’re waiting on me,” Zuko spoke, though it was about a half hour too early. He took the remainder of the papers in a folder to finish later, and left the room, and it felt empty without Katara to follow from it. 

* * *

Katara didn’t leave the bed again that night. If she wanted tea, water, or food, Tonraq would bring it. Then, he’d slip under the blankets and find new ways to torture her with his fingers, tongue, or cock. It must’ve been his attempt to make up the fight to her… it was working.

Sometime past midnight, Katara had forgotten ever being angry. _Hell,_ she forgot  the layout of the room. Tonraq had his head between her legs and his tongue on her clit. He brought her through another climax, then another. Her body was limp and tired, but somehow, he never tired himself.

Tonraq kissed up her stomach, hovered over her for a moment while his lips perused her neck, then rolled her to her side. He settled behind her with a quiet sigh.

“Good?” he asked, nuzzling the back of her head.

“Yes. Obviously.” Katara hummed, eyes closed as the trembling ebbed from her body. “The sheets are all damp.”

He perked up on a elbow, his free hand running up and down her thigh. “We could move to the cot.”

“Or you could _give_  me the cot, and you can sleep in your… mess.” Katara rolled onto her back, a pointed look directed at him. Everything ached as she sat up and left the bed, dressing in one of Zuko’s tunics on the way to Tonraq’s bed. He protested her absence, prompting her to throw a pillow at his head. "Shut up! The sun’s going to be up in a few hours and I’d like a little bit of sleep before then, _Tonraq.“_

"Fine…” He still grumbled, but ultimately threw her pillow back as he moved to a slightly cleaner area of the bed. “I’m making you change these sheets tomorrow, as your penance.”

/////////

Somehow, Katara slept past sunrise. She slept through the sounds of Tonraq waking, too, and the smells of tea and breakfast. When she finally stirred, sometime close to noon, he remarked that he would’ve thought her dead, if it weren’t for her snoring. 

“You’d be guilty of murder,” she griped, taking a tea cup and slumping into a chair.

She was thoroughly exhausted, even with the amount of sleep she got. Katara let her gaze drift to the window, where she stared off for a while, watching the snow drift down lazily and blanket the earth. She was close to dozing off again, but, beyond the hut, came an almost familiar _snap-and-whoosh_.

Katara sat up straight, looking around and listening. Tonraq was a picture of confusion.

“What is that?” he asked.

She tilted her head, quiet for just a moment longer. _Snap. Whoosh. Snap. Whoosh._ Wings. A grin brightened her face and Katara popped up from her seat, running around to find boots and a cloak. She was at the door just as a glittering red dragon descended in a rush of air, landing with a thud.

Katara laughed, “It’s Zuko.”

* * *

 

Zuko didn’t sleep again. His eyes were red once more from tears, and there were dark circles under them, going with the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes, and the gray streaks beginning to grow in his jet black hair. Zuko stood in front of the mirror after showering for what felt like hours. He used Katara’s favorite soaps and shampoos. He wanted to impress her. Zuko wanted to prove to his wife that he was worth holding onto. Zuko wanted to show Katara that he was better than Tonraq, but the more he looked at himself in the mirror, the more he felt inferior to him. 

His fingers ran over his scar, and then over the beard he’d grown at Katara’s recommendation, to shield him from the cold, she’d said. Tonraq only had a goatee, maybe that would suit him better, and Katara would like that better. Zuko took the knife to his skin, and shaved the thick beard away, burning the hair as it fell with his bending. When he saw himself after trimming it all– he looked worse. He looked identical to his father, only branded. 

Zuko’s heart skipped a beat, and in a panic, he shaved the rest of his facial hair off, his stomach then in knots and he threw the knife down. He looked like hell, and he was trying to show up the man who seemed to be better than him in every aspect. That must have been why Katara had chosen him, and why she’d loved him. Zuko exhaled shakily, and took the knife from the ground, and sliced off his hair to his neck, setting fire to the long tresses as they feathered to the floor. 

Zuko angrily stepped away from the mirror, and put on the clean, but everyday Water Tribe attire, and put his shortened hair in the traditional wolf tail style. Zuko then went to the kitchen, and figured the two of them could use a hot meal. Zuko had the chefs make a breakfast quiche, a dish from the Fire Nation, but without all the hot spices. Zuko smiled at the chefs, and took some sachets of his uncle’s specialty tea blend as well. Zuko finally grabbed a few fire lillies from the greenhouse. He then set out on Druk, eager to see his wife. He missed her– and wished he could bring the kids, but he knew that that may not be the best idea. He left Pakku and Gran-Gran in charge, and set out on Druk, using his firebending to heat the quiche the entire way. Druk got their in no time. 

Zuko snuggled Druk’s snoot as he took the basket of food and tea, and nervously exhaled, seeing his shaky breath in the cold air. His stomach flipped, wondering if they were in there now, like before. What if he interrupted them in the middle of having sex, or kissing, or if they were cuddling– no, Zuko stopped his thoughts. Katara promised him that those things were sacred to their relationship. Zuko did believe her. He trusted that she would hold true to those words, even amidst it all. 

Zuko reached his hand up to knock– then retracted in nervousness. He finally talked himself into it with a huff from Druk, and knocked at the door. He was relieved when the door swung open promptly, even if the scene showed sheets in disarray, and indents in the mattress. Zuko pushed away the sickening, jealous feeling, and gave Katara a smile, and forced himself to give Tonraq one. 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Zuko said with a sheepish laugh, and he walked over, feeling like a stranger in a place they once used as their own escape. It was the place they’d first been together. It all felt wrong now. Zuko pushed through it, and set the basket on the table, “There’s tea and hot food. I thought you could use some more variety. I’m sure there’s not much here,” Zuko said with a smile. “It’s a Fire Nation dish, I hope you like it,” Zuko said, directing his attention to his wife’s lover, or whatever he was to her. “Katara was reluctant at first, but it’s one of her favorites now,” Zuko explained. “I brought tea too, my uncle’s.”

Zuko then walked over to Katara, his smile melting to a genuine one that met his eyes. Love brightened in them as he met her gaze, and an affectionate blush emboldened his pale cheeks. Fuck, he loved her. Zuko loved Katara so much. He missed her in these days, and yearned to simply see her pretty face. It was so much harder than when she’d leave at weeks, or a month at a time before. this was so much worse. But, he was glad to be with her now. It put him at ease. 

Zuko pulled the flowers from behind his back. “And, I thought these might brighten up the place… it’s so plain and unlively in here with no one hardly ever in here,” Zuko spoke in a hushed voice, presenting the bright flowers to his wife, his gaze never leaving hers. “I probably should have gotten a vase.”

* * *

Katara couldn’t wipe the stupid smile from her face. He was there. He looked different, tired and sad and clean-shaven, but Zuko was there. Right in front of her. Whispering to her with an air of apprehension, nerves. She looked down at the flowers he held out, and a blush spread across her cheeks like she was thirteen. 

“They’re lovely,” she whispered, reaching for them. Her fingers wrapped around the stems, overlaying his. Katara looked up when their skin brushed. Her smile had become smaller, shyer. “I love them, vase or not… and _you.”_

It took only a second for it not to matter that they weren’t alone; Tonraq had politely averted his attention anyway. The facade she’d built up— this playful, happy, flirtatious character— fell away in seconds. Katara melted, inside and out, fatigued and worn and oh-so- _happy_ to be falling against her husband with her arms around his neck. 

She breathed his name. “Zuko… I missed you. _La_ , I missed you. I _love_ you.” 

Katara buried her face in the groove of his shoulder, feeling tears coming, then not caring as they fell free. They soaked into Zuko’s shirt. She clutched the fabric tightly, refusing to let go in even the most dire of circumstances. “I’m so glad you came. I was starting to think you wouldn’t, and I’d have to get through this week all on my own.” 

“La, I’m so happy.” She lifted her hand, looking at him. Her fingers came ‘round his neck, tracing the clean line of his jaw as her gaze drifted up to his hair. “And look at you…” A smile curled Katara’s lips. She closed her eyes when Zuko leaned forward, his forehead against hers. “You look as beautiful as you did the day we met. I like it. You should keep it like this. You’re so handsome, love.” 

* * *

Zuko’s heart melted into putty in his chest. Relief poured over him in waves, like a bucket of water. She missed him, and she was glad he came. After all that senseless worrying she’d be upset he disrupted her, she was lunging herself in his arms. Zuko sighed in relief, smiling warmly as he put his hand on the back of her head, and his other on the small of her back. Zuko rocked Katara in his arms, holding her close and affectionately. He didn’t want to let go- ever- or go, ever.

“I missed you too, Spirits, I _love_ you so much,” Zuko whispered into her ear, not really giving a damn that Tonraq was there to watch their display of affection. The days had felt like weeks, and he was so glad to hold her. They pulled back slightly, and Katara commented on his haircut and lack of facial hair. Zuko laughed warmly, nuzzling his cheek against her. He was glad she liked it, and held her tighter, pettily glad to spite Tonraq. 

Zuko put his head back on her forehead, smiling warmly. He brushed his nose against hers, feeling so content. His anxiety got the best of him when he was away, but once he was back in reality, he felt so stupid, every time. Zuko moved his hands to cup her cheeks, and leaned in, kissing her deeply and tenderly with love, as he had over-and-over, millions of times, for the past decade. He would never tire of the soft feel of her lips against his own. 

When they pulled back, Zuko leaned in one more time with a laugh, stealing another peck before pulling back slightly again. “I almost forgot,” Zuko noted, pulling a piece of parchment out of his coat pocket. “Baby Iroh painted this for you,” Zuko said with a tender laugh. It was a finger painting of the family on a sled together, but it was far more talented than his years. He drew himself on his mother’s lap, with Zuko next to her, and his siblings in the back. 

“He said that he gets us all to hisself, and Kya, Ursa, and Hakoda have to sit in the back,” Zuko relayed with a laugh, and then pointed in the background, “And, that’s Druk,” Zuko explained, “I was told it was very important to show you Druk- we can’t forget him,” Zuko said with a smirk. “He did it all by himself, I didn’t help at all, he just showed it to me, and I promised I’d deliver it to you carefully,” Zuko said with an affectionate laugh, thinking of his son. 

 


	47. Chapter 47

“Oh…” Katara took the painting from Zuko carefully, smiling softly as tears lined her lashes. “He’s such a sweet little boy, and he got all his talent from his father.” She looked up, glassy-eyed. “I wish I could be there to see him… his pudgy little hands all covered in paint.”

She brushed her thumbs over the dried strokes of white and blue, then touched the smudge of red meant to represent Druk. _La,_ she missed her kids, her husband, and even that silly dragon, who acted much more like a baby tigercat than a fire-breathing beast.

Katara sniffled and wiped under her nose. She was going to cause a scene if she kept staring at the picture, and what she didn’t want was Zuko or Tonraq worrying over the fragility of her mental state. She’d been strong and easy-going for four nights, now; she couldn’t break down just because Zuko came for a visit.

“I’m going to…” Her voice was hoarse and choked. Katara cleared her throat. "I’ll keep it by the bed. Tell Iroh I love it,“ she said, squeezing Zuko’s arm before turning away. She meant to lay the painting on the nightstand, but her eyes were cast down to hide the tears in them, and Katara nearly slammed into Tonraq.

 _“Oh!_ Sorry, Chieftess.” He caught her before she stumbled, steadying her. He’d used the time of her sweet reunion to dress in heavier clothing and pulled on his boots. "I’m going to chop some fire wood… we’re low. And, you two deserve some space.“

Tonraq dropped his hands from her biceps and stepped around her. “Thank you for the quiche, Prince Zuko,” He smiled warmly, clasping Zuko’s shoulder as he passed by. “Katara’s getting sick of all the pastries.“ Tonraq grabbed the axe by the door and swung it up to his shoulder, pausing for a beat. He looked back, eyeing Zuko, then Katara. His expression reminded her of their fight: ’ _What do I do? I live in the palace like you said, work there, see my kid everyday… and watch you spend your life with someone who would’ve been me?’_

Katara looked away. Her cheeks had flushed with a mix of embarrassment and shame. Tonraq sighed. “Alright… I’ll take my time. Maybe I’ll even befriend that dragon of yours, Zuko. Katara said he likes just about everyone.”

The door swung shut in his wake, bringing a rush of cold air that died quickly against the warmth coming from the hut’s fireplace. Katara sucked in a deep breath, then reached for Zuko’s hands. She pulled him towards the bed, sitting down and patting the edge.

“So, talk to me,” she said. “What’ve the kids been up to? How’s Yue, Kazu? What have I missed?” 

* * *

Zuko gave Tonraq a cordial smile as he departed, nodding at him. He wanted to tell him that Druk didn’t like people who Zuko didn’t like, but smirked smugly, knowing that he’d figure that out on his own. Zuko was glad to be rid of Tonraq when he left the hut. He’d stolen his wife away long enough. The prince smiled, relieved to be alone with Katara. She always put him at ease. He felt comfortable to be himself fully, without the weight of worry of being someone he wasn’t. 

Something about the bed felt… wrong. He sat there hesitantly, turning back to notice the sheets in disarray and askew. Zuko turned back, trying not to think any more of it. He put his hand gently on Katara’s thigh, absentmindedly rubbing her leg. “Well, Iroh has been painting nonstop,” Zuko said with a laugh. “I have to give him about three baths a day, no kidding,” Zuko stated, a lopsided smile alighting his tired features. “Ursa has had her nose in a book Kazu gave her from the Fire Nation palace, and her tutor has told me she reads it all through her lessons,” Zuko said with a laugh. “Kya has been firebending all the time. Any free moment she has, she’s out in the courtyard, practicing, and I’ve been showing her some things, and teaching her mostly about safety, which she finds boring,” Zuko explained. “And, Hakoda- being our Hakoda- has been studying nonstop,” Zuko said, affectionately speaking of their children. 

“Yue is all right. She’s still hurting, of course,” whispered Zuko, “I think she’s lonely, too,” Zuko added, “She’s always hanging around, looking for someone to talk to. I think she misses you the second most, after me, of course,” he teased. “She’ll be glad to see you when you’re home again this weekend. I should’ve invited her out, I didn’t even think of it,” Zuko said with a sigh, regrettably. “Kazu still knows something’s not right… kids are… you know, they’re children, but they’re far more intuitive than we give them credit for,” Zuko said. “He’s been playing with Ursa a lot– those two get on very well,” Zuko fondly spoke of them, then giving his wife’s leg a squeeze affectionately. 

His eyes moved around the room, “Things have been okay here? I hope I’m not… I don’t know…” Zuko trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase it, “Getting in the way, I suppose,” Zuko settled on, laughing at the end. “I just hope he’s good to you… I know he’s a good man, even if he’s not my favorite person in the world,” Zuko teased. “But, as long as he’s good to you, in the end, that’s all that counts. I can get over the rest– we _both_ can.”

* * *

A quiet laugh passed through her lips. Katara smiled, putting her hand over Zuko’s and linking their fingers. “Well, I’m certainly glad you and Yue have found some company. She’s funny, and charming, when she comes out of her shell. And, the kids, of course. It’s good they’re all getting along, but you have to crack down on Usra.” She nudged Zuko’s ribs with her elbow. “Just a little bit. We can’t have her falling behind Kya because she’s ignoring her tutor.”

Her smile slipped away as Zuko’s gaze slipped around the hut. There was nothing incriminating lying about, but she could tell from his expression that simply being here hurt. Katara tried to change the subject. Her mouth opened with a struggle for something else when he asked how things had been.

“Oh, um…” She blinked in surprise, and shrugged. How much should she say? “Things are fine. We’ve been… keeping warm.” Katara fidgeted, stealing her hand back from him. Hot, burning shame colored her face. “There was a storm two night’s ago. The hut held up alright. Tonraq had to seal a gap between the window and the wood, but…

Katara glanced at Zuko briefly, wary of seeing judgment on his face. ”I’ve done a lot of reading, too, like Ursa. I’ve almost finished this book.“ She shifted backward, stretching across the messy bed to grab _The Bewitching of the Dragon King_ from the nightstand, and showed it to Zuko. “It’s the most ridiculous thing plot wise, but there’s not much else to do out here.”

* * *

“I’m glad you’ve been holding up okay,” Zuko replied, meaning it sincerely, but sadness colored his face. He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the room once more. It reminded him of their time here ten years ago. The time that had been so apprehensive and frightening at first, but Katara made him feel warm and welcomed, and ensured him that he mattered, despite how his uncle sent him here like property, and the sages told him he was nothing more than a slab of meat to make waterbending babies. Fat lot of good for that he turned out to be. He was plenty good at making babies, he and Katara made the best of all, of course, but waterbending babies- they were 0 for 4. **  
**

Zuko was glad when Katara changed the subject before his head wandered down darker paths. She pulled up an old, Fire Nation classic piece. He gasped when Katara mocked the book, in faux horror. “Katara!” Zuko exclaimed. “That book is a piece of Fire Nation literary history! Every kid’s read it in the entire nation,” Zuko spoke. “It is a classic,” he stressed sarcastically, knowing the book was a bore. It put every kid in the Fire Nation to sleep, more like it. It made a great bedtime story.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t even know if Ursa would like that book,” jested Zuko, lying back on the bed. “It has some nice dragon illustrations in it, though. I used to try to copy them when I was young.”

* * *

“You would let _children_ read this?” Her eyes went wide with horror. Katara quickly flipped to the last chapter she’d read, laying it out in Zuko’s lap and tapping the page. “You have to be mixed up, babe. I wouldn’t even let Sokka near this, if he were living.”

She watched as his gaze skimmed the page. As expected, his ears tinted a bright pink and his neck flushed. Katara chuckled, “Like I said… terrible plot wise, but goddamn, the author can write some romance.”

“It does remind me a bit of our first week together,” Katara said, slipping closer to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, fingers gently toying with his wolf tail. "We might not have been so… _adventurous_ , but I like to think I bewitched you.“ 

* * *

Zuko blushed fervently, realizing his mistake when Katara put the novel in his face and he skimmed a few lines. He laughed, covering his face with his hands to hide his blush and lopsided smile. “Spirits, I was getting it confused with _The Reigning of the Dragon King,”_ Zuko said with a laugh, moving his hand to look up at her.

Zuko curled into her as she pulled him in closer, and he kissed her cheek. “Does it?” asked Zuko, laughing. “When I was a timid, meek, inexperienced fool?” Zuko teased. “I was absolutely terrified last time I was in here,” he admitted with a laugh. “When we first came in here, I thought I was going to throw up I was so nervous. Even then, you were able to talk me down,” he admired. “Then, of course, it was anything but frightening,” he teased her, nudging her side, his eyes drifting to the fireplace. 

He remembered lighting that each morning. This place was supposed to be a sacred place only the royals took their spouses to consummate their marriages. It hurt that Katara had taken Tonraq here, but he knew they had nowhere else to go, really. Zuko sighed, and flicked his wrist to give more juice to the fire with a smirk. 

Zuko then leaned his head on Katara’s shoulder wearily. He was exhausted. Zuko had been without sleep for days now. His eyes fluttered shut, and he took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You know, if you want- and only if you want to- you can always come back home with me on Druk, and I’ll take you back out in the morning,” whispered Zuko. “Tonraq too,” he added, his thumb caressing over her skin as he yawned. “Whatever works best for you though, love.”

* * *

Going home sounded nice; lovely, actually. She rested her cheek on Zuko’s head and dreamed about it, sighing. The kids would be so happy to see her. She could spend the rest of the day with them, sleep in her own bed with her husband to keep her warm, and wake up to the shrill laughter and wrestling matches brought by her children. Katara smiled.

Then, it fell. She opened her eyes, blurred vision unfocused on the floor. “I can’t,” Katara said. Her thoughts lingered on her kids. _Hakoda_. La, if his life ended as Arnook’s did, it’d be solely her fault. She had the power to prevent it; she had to keep trying.

“I have to stay here,” she murmured, her mood shifting drastically. Katara lifted her head from Zuko’s shoulder, already throwing up walls to guard her heart, already drawing on the facade she’d built to get through the week of solitude with Tonraq. “If something happened… if I didn’t do everything and something happened to Hakoda.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Zuko, but I have to try. As _much_ as possible. I can’t leave here knowing I didn’t do everything to protect my tribe and my family.”

* * *

Zuko’s heart hurt at her response, but he anticipated it. He yearned to stay like this, back in their own bed, free from the doubts and the visions of her in this same position with Tonraq. But, he took her word to heart. Zuko sat up with Katara, still wanting her close. He pecked her jaw affectionately, “It’s all right, I figured as much,” Zuko whispered somberly. The words felt like a knife– keep trying, as much as possible. That was a gentle way of telling him she had to have lots, and lots, and lots of sex with Tonraq instead of coming home with him to their home. 

Zuko knew she didn’t want it, but it still wasn’t easy. “Nothing will happen to our baby, I promise,” swore Zuko. “I’ll be dead before anything happens to our son. I won’t let anyone touch a hair on any of our babies’ heads– over my cold, dead body,” Zuko spoke firmly, taking her hand again. “The same goes for you,” he added softly. 

He sighed then, “I… I’m not… wasting time, am I? If you need me to leave, I can,” Zuko spoke, hoping he could say a little while longer. He wasn’t ready to go– he didn’t want to let her go, knowing when he did, she’d fall right from his arms to Tonraq’s. Zuko let out a shaky sigh, pressing his fingers to his forehead, “Maybe… maybe you’ll get pregnant this time. Maybe it’s almost over.”

* * *

Katara nodded, a flash of hope breaking through her skeptical demeanor. “I’m praying for that; for normalcy, too,” she said. “If you and I can ever be normal after something like this. I know _I_ want it.” She reached for his wrist, pulled his fingers away from his face. “Things will fall back into place soon enough, love. As long as we try.”

She smiled softly, despite the gnawing sensation in the pit of her belly, and clutched Zuko’s hands with one of her own. The other brushed his cheek, tucking a stray hair back behind his ear. She really did love the change, the smoothness of his jawline and the wolf-tail that showed off the structure of his face, but Katara couldn’t help herself. She wondered if the change was because she was gone, because _he_ was changing.

_“Ohh…”_ A little breath left her, singing through her lips. Katara took her hand from Zuko’s cheek, flattening in on her belly. “I don’t feel good,” she muttered, getting up. Maybe walking around help, maybe some fresh air. Katara went to the window and opened it. The rush of cold air on her skin felt good, but she heard the dull thud of Tonraq’s axe splitting wood and her stomach only churned more.

Telling Zuko to come was a mistake, she thought, closing her eyes. She’d had a sense of peace, at least. Sleeping with Tonraq wouldn’t have been her choice, outside of the position created by her Council, but Katara felt comfortable this second time ‘round. Comfortable and confident and calm— Katara felt uneasy, now.

Seeing Zuko reminded her of the pain she was causing, the irreparable damage she was inflicting. Seeing him reminded her how afraid she was that they’d change, their marriage would change, _he’d change_ and leave her behind. And, Yue was there… with her studying looks and underhanded comments about _your children_.

Katara sucked in a deep breath, closing the window again as a chill prickled up on her skin. She turned around, facing Zuko, and memorizing him like this was the last time she might see him.

“Why don’t you stay?” she suggested, “Until Tonraq comes back. He’ll be another half hour, yet. You can stay. We can have tea or… or you can just hold me. Zuko… just hold me.” 

* * *

Zuko sat up, walking to his wife in concern as she declared she didn’t feel well. He put a gentle hand on her back, and met her gaze. “Hey, you okay?” Asked Zuko. “Do you want me to get some medicine? With Druk it’ll only be a minute,” Zuko assured her, stroking her back affectionately. He leaned in and kissed Katara’s temple delicately.

He was glad when she asked him to stay, pulling her into a warm and deliberately tender embrace. He’d hold her as long as she wanted.

“Come here,” murmured Zuko, pulling her over to the bed, and they lied down over the crumpled sheets. Zuko’s heart wrenched at the thought of Tonraq’s head on the same pillow, holding his Katara close in this same way. He held her closer then, wrapping his arm over her, and pulling her up to lie on his chest, entangling their legs, while his fingers tickled her back lovingly.

He didn’t speak, and without sleeping for days, and in her arms, Zuko’s eyes finally began to wobble. His strokes on her back slowed as his eyelids fluttered, and he ceased when he dozed off, his hand on her back, and his breath finally a steady, content calm.


	48. Chapter 48

It was dark when her eyes opened again, both inside the hut and beyond the window. Katara blinked, slowly taking in the night sky past the frost-bitten glass, snuggling down in the dull warmth radiating from the hearth. There was warmth all around her, too. She registered the rise and fall of someone’s chest beneath her cheek. Her fingers tightened in soft, red fabric, making fists, and she sighed. 

 _Zuko,_ she thought. A small, sleepy smile curled her lips. She felt content… and though Katara couldn’t name exactly why, through the haze in her mind, she sensed she hadn’t been so calm for days.

Another long, deep breath. Katara could’ve closed her eyes again, fallen back into her dreamless sleep, but her heart suddenly picked up and reality shattered the peace. She sat up with a start, searching the dark hut and spotting Tonraq. His face was a picture of quiet surprise, like she’d been asleep for a while.

“Oh, _La._ Sorry.” Katara whispered, disentangling herself from the blankets and Zuko’s grasp. He shifted and rolled to his stomach without her, but didn’t wake. She covered him back up with the sheets. “How long have we been out?”

“It’s a little past six…” Tonraq said. His voice was low and quiet, that rough timbre she used to love in the morning. Hearing it now made her wish he wasn’t in the room. But… she had a duty to her country.

Katara slipped away from the bed quietly, going to the kitchen table and joining Tonraq. He had a book, the one she’d shown Zuko, and a cup of tea, which he pushed towards her. It was still steaming.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he murmured, “not after keeping you up all night.”

She picked up the teacup and took a sip. “I wish you had… it’ll be another late night making up for the lost time.”

“We can take a day off, Katara.”

“We can’t, not really." She shrugged. Her eyes drifted back to the bed, and Katara smiled again, albeit sadly. She’d have to say goodbye, watch Zuko fly away; it made her nauseous to imagine the disappearing red speck that would be Druk.

After another draught of tea, Katara turned back around in her chair, meeting Tonraq’s inquisitive stare. Was it inquisitive? She tilted her head, thinking she saw a flash of jealousy. She didn’t pursue it, though.

"I’m going to let him sleep a little longer… he probably hasn’t at all since I left and the kids will start to worry if their dad is dragging.”

Tonraq nodded. “That’s fine. Maybe you could go back and join him. I’ll wake you both in an hour.”

She was right: _jealousy_. Although, Katara imagined it had less to do with Zuko’s presence and more to do with the scene Tonraq had been privy to before she awakened. Trapped in this hut, it was hard not to entertain different thoughts of what could’ve been… and Tonraq had said it: when he looked at Zuko, he saw the life that would’ve been his.

At that point, Katara decided she shouldn’t ignore it. At the risk of starting a fight, she said, “You’re wishing I’d sleep next to you like that.”

“It’d be nice.” Tonraq kept his face flat, but from the gruffness in his tone, Katara sensed pent up emotion. She waited, watching him patiently while his fingers tapped the table top. Eventually—

“I’m not asking you to bend your rules. You’re married; you have to have boundaries, especially with our past,” he said. “It’d just be nice to know I’m wanted, to know you want me around… I think that’s what’s hardest about be ing here. I can’t ask for that reassurance, you can’t give it. And… I think that’s my biggest reservation about raising our baby with you. I’ll never know if you really want me there.”

Tonraq looked at her, blue eyes dark and mysterious, jaw set in a tense line. A decade ago, she would’ve kissed away his troubles, kissed him until he was laughing, pleading, and panting, actually. Now, Katara looked away.

She twirled a finger around the lip of her tea cup, watching the amber liquid follow her movements. Somewhere deep down, she felt like she was taking a risk when she returned her eyes to him and answered.

“Yes,” Katara said. “I do.”

She licked her lips and leaned forward, whispered with hushed urgency. “I know what it feels like to give away a child, Tonraq. A piece of my soul left with Aliya, and for fourteen years, that piece has been missing. I wouldn’t wish this… this _emptiness_ on my worst enemy; and certainly, I wouldn’t wish it on you. I want you there. I want you to have the chance at knowing your baby.”

* * *

 

Zuko stirred slightly when his wife moved, but rolled over. He was only  half awake, but Zuko could hear Katara get up and sit with Tonraq. At that point, the calm feeling he’d held, the rested feeling, wilted. He felt anxious again, and his heart was racing. He lied there, letting them speak, and resenting the sound of Tonraq’s voice. 

Zuko clenched the sheets tightly in his fist when Tonraq spoke of sleeping in Katara’s arms. Jealous anger boiled in his chest, and he wanted to smack him. He might’ve, hadn’t he gone off about knowing Katara was married, and respecting that. He was relieved Katara didn’t speak on it. She’d kept true to her promises that she hadn’t slept beside him, held him, or kissed him. 

His heart seized in his chest once more when Tonraq spoke of staying– and being the father, or a dad, rather than just a father. Zuko was hoping he’d let Zuko adopt the baby. He didn’t want him there. He was praying he wouldn’t be there– bonding with his wife forever. It made Zuko feel sick to his stomach to think about having to greet the man who’d fucked his wife every day until he died. He didn’t want to explain to his children. He didn’t want Katara to be with him anymore. He wanted this all to end. 

But, he understood that he’d want to be involved too– it would be his child. 

What broke Zuko was when Katara told Tonraq she wanted him there. She wanted this other man there, living with her, in their home- which was meant for their family. Katara wanted to raise a baby with this man. That was supposed to be something she only did with Zuko. But now, Tonraq would get to, and Tonraq was allowed to know of her deepest pain. Even years later, here she was, speaking so candidly with Tonraq about her pain. 

She trusted Tonraq more than she trusted him, her husband. And, it too, killed him to hear his wife in so much pain. A silent, single tear rolled from Zuko’s eye as he continued to pretend to be asleep, and he knew, again, he wouldn’t sleep anymore until Katara was back home. 

* * *

“Have you ever considered telling him? About your daughter?” Tonraq asked, breaking a heavy pause that had them both staring at the table’s wooden grain. “He’s your husband, Katara. He’d—“

“Because of a treaty,” she said quickly, her expression turning dark. Her voice was bitter and cold, covering up the painful, wistful wish that Tonraq was right. “He’s my husband because of a treaty. Yes, I love him; we grew to love each other and I can’t imagine anyone in his place, but you can’t believe someone who’s tied to me _because of the law_ would accept every single one of my secrets.”

Katara huffed and stood up, going for the cabinets around the stove. The tea was gone. She wanted something stronger. Her exploration earned her a bottle of wine. Katara took it from the shelf, uncorking it with a knife, then poured herself a glass.

“Want some?” She offered, glancing at Tonraq.

He shrugged, prompting her to fill a glass for him as well. Katara brought it over and sat down, stealing a gulp of hers. “It’s been ten years, Tonraq. I can’t announce that I had a daughter out of wedlock due to me running around like a used up whore.”

“A used up— who said that? Who fucking said that?”

He was mad. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. Ferociously. He leaned closer, his voice hissing and hushed, whispering over the crackle in the fireplace.

“Katara. _Kat_ , who said that about you? Was it Zuko? Was it—“

She pinched her lips together and grumbled, making him falter off. “ _My dad_.” Katara looked down at her wine. “Like you said, his only concern was finding me an honorable match, given my… _position_ … and the moment the Fire Nation surrendered, he saw his opportunity: a Prince who knew nothing about me. He didn’t care about anything else… certainly not my happiness. He just wanted to cover up my past and now I’m too afraid to let it out.”

* * *

Zuko felt like Katara had shot him in the heart. The words replayed until the seemed real.  _‘Because of a treaty’_. Of course, it was true, but it was the way she said it that made it feel like she was gutting him, and who she said it to. It sounded like he was this second-rate, second-choice, leftover. Why would she tell Tonraq that? Tonraq– the man she chose. The man who’d be her husband otherwise. 

_‘–but you can’t believe someone who’s tied to me because of the law would accept every single one of my secrets.’_

Zuko bit down on his lip so hard he tasted metal in his mouth. It was the only thing to keep his shoulders from shaking, and giving away that he was awake, and heard it all. He wished to Agni he hadn’t been. He wished he didn’t hear that. Katara didn’t trust him. She spoke like he was something to settle for. Of course she could trust him with her secrets. Why would she think she couldn’t? What had he done to make her think she couldn’t? He’d given her every, single secret he had. He’d given her his soul, and she’d given the most vulnerable parts of hers to _Tonraq_ – who she was still speaking about. She was talking about her marriage to him with _Tonraq_. Maybe _Tonraq_ would have been enough. Maybe she found herself wishing she’d married him instead, now.  For years, Zuko thought he had been for his wife. The things she was saying now, in presumed private, pointed otherwise. Zuko thought he’d choke on a sob. 

She got out some liquor, and went on– and Zuko wanted to scream to her that she could tell him anything at any time- anywhere, and he’d never judge her. He wanted to apologize to her for whatever reason he’d given her not to trust him in that. But, what stung worse was the harsh language she’d went on to use about herself. Zuko instinctively shook his head no in response to the horrid things she said about herself, siding with Tonraq on it. But, he cursed himself, hoping she hadn’t noticed him shake his head. 

Zuko suddenly wanted to punch Hakoda, even though he was dead. Zuko’s stomach flipped thinking of ever even thinking something so repugnant about one of his daughters. That would never even cross his mind. How could Hakoda say something so disgustingly false about his own daughter? Zuko wanted to pull Katara into his arms, and promise her he could be trusted, and tell her she was anything but what Hakoda had said. He also wanted to punch Tonraq in the face for his rash assumptions about who he was. 

Instead, finding it in Tonraq and Katara’s best interests, he kept pretending he was asleep- and muted the tears that rolled over his nose as the words Katara spat played over like a broken record, and his worries taunted him with the wretched things his late father-in-law had spewed.

* * *

 

“Tonraq.” He’d gone silent, eyes dark beneath a heavy, furrowed brow. His bottom lip had lost all color, the blood pushed away by the bite of his teeth. The way his fingers wrapped around the stem of his wine glass, like he wanted to snap it, made Katara worry.

She reached across the table, gentle brushing his knuckles. “Tonraq, it’s fine. _I’m_ fine. Please, I don’t want to spend the evening fixing severed nerves in your hand.” 

“I can do it myself.” 

“Can you?” Katara raised a brow, amused. “Your healing is sub-par, at best, because you refused my offer for lessons all those years ago. You’ll end up with no feeling in your fingers at all.”

His eyes lifted to hers, his mood still foul and surly, but the grip on his wine relaxed. Tonraq ran his fingers over the table before dropping his hand into his lap. “I only refused your lessons because I was supposed to be guarding you, not fraternizing with you.”

“Guarding me? Was I a prisoner?” 

“I… don’t think Chief Hakoda believed you,” Tonraq said, slow and careful. “You came home suddenly, and he thought… he thought you’d been out… sleeping around with different soldiers on the front. Maybe something happened, something went wrong with one of them… you came home, claiming it was rape—”  

“He didn’t believe me?” Her voice was small, broken.

“He put a few of us in charge of you, but it wasn’t to protect you like you were told.”

“It was to keep me hidden, wasn’t it? Keep the secret hidden.” Katara looked down at her hands. She didn’t need to see Tonraq’s face to have her answer. It was obvious in his silence, in his held breath.

She chewed on her lip, feeling tears threaten. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know it was because he didn’t believe me.” Katara snorted angrily. “And, you think I should just tell Zuko? You think I can just casually mention that I was a mother for three minutes because some Fire Nation admiral raped me at seventeen. You think he’ll believe me? My father, my own _flesh and blood_ , didn’t believe me. He didn’t—”

Katara cut off, let out a loud, choked gasp, and stood up. She put a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet, not wanting to risk waking Zuko and having him see her like this. Explaining would be too much; knowing his temper, he’d likely make assumptions and hit Tonraq. She gathered control as best she could, then moved her hand up into her hair.

“Can I have some space?” she asked Tonraq, fixing her curls and patting her face dry. “Just to wake Zuko and tell him goodbye? I can… meet you at the springs or something.” 

“Okay. Absolutely.” 

Tonraq nodded and stood, too. He took his wine glass and hers, along with the bottle, then quietly gathered his cloak and boots. A few, furtive glances were thrown her way, checking on her, but Katara kept her face turned down, hiding her thoughts from him.

When she heard the door creak open, she looked up, meeting Tonraq’s gaze as he stepped out.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “I never doubted you… and I didn’t even know you. Your husband’s known you for ten, Katara. I think it’s safe to say he trusts you.”

* * *

Zuko froze. Suddenly, everything he was worried about seemed obsolete. It didn’t matter anymore, it instantly flew to the backburner. He couldn’t believe what Tonraq said Chief Hakoda spoke. He wanted to go back in time and punch Hakoda then, Zuko was ready to kill the man himself now, if his sister hadn’t beat him to it. How dare he? How dare he think his wife would make up such a heinous lie? Zuko was furious, and his hand quivered on the bed as he clutched the sheets. 

It stung when she solidified further that he still wouldn’t understand or accept her. It felt like another slap to the face when she told Tonraq she was going to meet him in the hot springs, alone together. But, it seemed so trivial in face of what he’d just heard about Hakoda. He wanted to comfort her, as best he could, for whatever he was worth to her as merely a treaty husband. Zuko didn’t want to acknowledge it, but Tonraq had more faith and trust in him than his own wife. 

It all hurt. But, Zuko was furious with Hakoda, which was illogical because the man was dead for nine years. Zuko listened to the door creak shut and the quiet return, and he knew he’d have to reel himself in quick. He didn’t want Katara to know he’d been awake, and eavesdropping, and heard all the things she’d said. Tears were still drying on his face, and he turned his head into the pillow, and hoped she’d wait a moment or two.

* * *

She waited a minute, hoping the redness in her eyes would fade, then went to the side of the bed where Zuko slept and sat down gently. Katara put a hand on his back and patted him. “Love?” 

“Zuko,” she whispered. “Love, it’s getting late. The kids are probably wondering about you.” Katara ran her fingers up his spine to his hair, combing the raven strands up to his wolf-tail, massaging his scalp. He stirred a little, huffing irritably as he stretched. When his head turns towards her and he opened his eyes, Katara smiled. 

Her hand moved to his cheek. She brushed the edge of his scar with her thumb, wishing she were that brave. She wasn’t though; she didn’t possess even an ounce of courage. 

Katara’s fingers returned to her lap. “Did you sleep well?” 

* * *

Zuko was glad when she took a minute to wake him. It was enough that the tears could be hidden, and he sat up slowly when she woke him. He wished he could comfort her. He wished she would trust him with her heart and her sorrows. He wanted to help ease her pain, he wanted her to know that he loved her, and he’d never judge her for the wretched things people had done to her. He wanted to be enough; he wanted to be seen as more than just her treaty spouse, bound to her by law. 

That was why the gentle touches that usually felt intimate and affectionate felt empty, and Zuko’s heart felt hollow. He sat up still and took her hand, hoping she’d find comfort in the touch, but he supposed Tonraq would be there for that in the springs momentarily. Perhaps he could drop her off on Druk, Zuko thought facetiously and bitterly. He gave her a small smile that he couldn’t force to match his eyes, no matter how badly he wanted it to. 

“Yes, it was a much-needed rest,” Zuko replied with a soft, forced laugh, giving his wife’s hand a tender squeeze as he stood. “I’m sure the children are waiting on me… I promised to read them a bedtime story,” Zuko explained, getting up warily and sitting down to tug on his boots. He didn’t want to go. He felt sick to leave her here after she just found out those terrible things about a man she loved– a man she revered, and looked up to, and trusted to protect her and love her unconditionally- her own father. He felt nauseous to leave knowing she was to go off with Tonraq and confide in him with both her body and soul within the hour. 

Zuko put on his coat with shaking hands, and inhaled sharply. He walked over to Katara, and feigned a smile, trying not to break. She was so lovely. She was beautiful, inside and out. He hoped she knew that. She was stronger than he could ever dream to be, and you could see her strength in her eyes– her big, bright, beautiful, blue eyes. Zuko could stare at her all day, and he wanted to. He wanted to because he felt like he was losing his chances. 

Zuko pulled her into his arms, and held her close. He exhaled in relief, and pressed her head against his tenderly. He’d never met a braver person in his life. There was no one he loved more than Katara. “Agni, I love you. Please know that, Kat. Please know I love you. I love you so much. I really do… with all I have in me… please trust me. I need you to know that… that I’m here, unconditionally, and I love you irrevocably.”

* * *

The embrace was unexpected, but Katara welcomed it. Despite all her worries, no where felt safer than within Zuko’s arms. She nestled her face in his neck and closed her eyes, smiling with genuine contentment now. 

“I know, Zuko. I know you do,” Katara answered. “You don’t have to worry about me forgetting that…” She pulled back with a slight laugh, draping her arms casually around his waist. “You’re my person. You know me better than anyone. Nothing that happens within one week can change that.” 

Katara lifted up on her toes to kiss him, her lips warm and soft, inviting him into something deeper. Zuko resisted though, only returning a close-mouthed peck, stiff and tense. His hands hadn’t moved from their careful position her waist and his face was troubled. She settled on her heels, beginning to feel sick. 

“What’s the matter, Zuko?” Her voice trembled, as did her hands and her breath. Katara wanted— _No_ , she needed the reassurance that they were alright, but something told her Zuko couldn’t give it. Or _wouldn’t._

She tried to take a deep breath, but no air filled her lungs. Katara swallowed. Hard. Forcing her throat to work and her chest to expand. “Please,” she croaked, “don’t… don’t go like this.” 

* * *

Her arms were warm, and her words were full of love, but it felt hallow. It felt somewhat of a farce, and he still felt less than. And, he was still worried sick for her. Zuko felt like if he left Katara now, he’d be abandoning her in her time of need. But, what could he say– that he listened? What was he supposed to do? Interrupted as soon as the conversation turned? It felt worse then- to let her know he could hear her harsh words, and then one thing lead to another. 

She caught onto his mood. She knew him so well, and he gave her a small smile. He cursed the Spirits a moment for not just allowing one of their babies to bend water. Before this Tonraq shit, Zuko hadn’t one sliver of doubt in his marriage. He had full faith, full trust, through and through. But somehow, Tonraq came along and shook them from here to kingdom come. 

He wanted to bring her comfort- and he knew he couldn’t leave her to worry now. It’d be worse to leave her hanging than to come clean. Zuko took a deep breath, and warily met her gaze while taking her hands. 

“Kat… I…” Zuko began, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry… but…” Zuko trailed off, “I tried to roll over to just… fall asleep… but… I couldn’t fall back asleep, and you– you and Tonraq started talking,” Zuko explained, squeezing her hands, and he then realized what came next had to be worded incredibly carefully. It’d be one thing if she was angry at him for spying, but another if he broke her with how he treated the topic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Zuko explained, “And… that servant girl, Zae… she’d already told me a couple days ago, and–” Zuko rambled, his eyes glazing over with tears. “I’m sorry, Kat– I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just– I want… no, I need you to know that I understand,” Zuko told her. “And, I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can trust me with that because I’m your husband, and you should feel comfortable to trust me with anything, and if I haven’t been able to give you that- to do that for you, then I’ve been doing a shit job,” Zuko croaked. 

“I know why you gave Ailya up for adoption… I do. What happened to you, and Agni, Kat, of course I believe you… and… and if your father were here, La rest his soul, I’m sorry, but I’d punch him,” Zuko choked out in a rattled mess. “I think you did the right thing for the baby… even though it was hard,” Zuko whispered, another line of tears falling. “And, I… I’m sorry I’m not the husband you could choose– you could trust with this… but most of all… I want… I want to change that. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t trust me, Katara. I love you,” explained Zuko. “What happened, agni, my love, that was not… not your fault in the least, and please believe me when I say I understand… and I… I’m sorry for… for everything.”

* * *

Katara pulled her hands from his the moment he began talking, cursed herself for asking. She should’ve known; how could she be so stupid? A secret that was meant to go with her to the grave, she just spilled out with her husband in the room? And, _La—_ he was looking at her like _he_ was going to break, like he hadn’t spent the most recent twenty minutes eavesdropping, invading her privacy. 

She bit down on her lip so hard, she tasted blood. “You just… you laid there? And _listened?_ You _spied_ on me?” 

Her breath rushed past her teeth as tears began to burn. They were hot and quick, slipping down her cheeks. Katara made fist and pressed to her mouth, but her knuckles did little to stifle a sudden, unexpected sob. 

“Is that why you came to see me? Because Zae started gossiping?” she asked, her chest hurting. “Did you come here to see what more you could find out? Are you satisfied? Or would you like all the dirty details I’ve keep hidden for fourteen years?” 

* * *

“I’m sorry!” exclaimed Zuko, “I didn’t mean to… I– I… I was trying to fall asleep, I didn’t even remember where I was, until I heard talking, and by the time I realized it was serious, and I shouldn’t have been listening, there was no room to interrupt– I didn’t–” Zuko rambled, trying to explain himself. “I didn’t want to spy on you!”

Zuko groaned, shaking his head. “Agni, Kat, I didn’t come here to spy on you! I didn’t even want to! I came here because I miss you so bad I can’t sleep at night! I came here because I wanted to see you and for no other reason!” he shouted. “I didn’t expect- or want- to find out anything! I wasn’t even going to say anything because I realized you didn’t want me to know! I sent Zae home, angry she betrayed your trust!” Zuko yelled. 

“Not that I know why! I don’t know why- after ten years, all we’ve been through- and you don’t trust me! You trust Tonraq just fine, but not me! I’m your husband!” Zuko shouted. “How can you trust Tonraq with all this– over me? That’s not even the point!” Zuko cried. “I’m worried about you! You’re upset, and you’re all the way out here, and I can’t do anything, and now you hate me, and- and your dad… and… I don’t know. I don’t know what I have to worry about. Tonraq clearly does a better job of making sure you’re okay than I do. I just… honestly– if he does, then… fuck, at least you’re _okay_. That’s all I care about. I just want you to be okay.”

* * *

“It’s never been about you versus Tonraq,” Katara said. Her voice was dangerously quiet in the wake of Zuko’s shouting. He was angry, and blaming her; it only served to make her feel the same. 

She clenched her fists at her sides and glared at her husband. “Tonraq only knew because my father put him and a few other men in charge of me. I’m assuming you heard the part of me being a prisoner? I was trapped. I had no one to talk to. My father didn’t offer any counsel or therapy and I guess that’s because he didn’t believe me, but Tonraq listened to me.” 

Her cheeks were wet and her vision was blurry. Katara could feel herself visibly shaking, but the tremors of her heart in her chest were even worse. Her trust was shattered, her faith that Zuko wouldn’t betray her— this felt like betrayal: his jealousy that she’d healed without him. 

Katara looked away, unable to hold Zuko’s gaze. “This wasn’t something I was ever going to let out,” she said. “I had a daughter because I was raped, or maybe I wasn’t… who knows, really?” She shrugged flippantly. “I mean, you know my sexual history. I was probably just a whore who asked for it.”

“Either way, Aliya came, then she was gone, and I had no one. The men all left, even Tonraq. They took the secret with them, though one of them must’ve told Zae.” She shook her head, watching as furious tears fell to the carpet. “It could’ve been one of the midwives, too. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t believe it was _Tonraq_.I’m sure that upsets you.”  

“And _that’s_ the point,” she said, using his own words against him, staring daggers at him. 

“Are you angry because I’ve healed from it and I didn’t need you? It was _fourteen years ago,_ Zuko. I didn’t even know you,” Katara snapped. “Or are you angry because I never told you? Because you had to slither your way out here and fish for the truth?” 

Her temper flared, hurt and panic flared. Katara shouted, “My past doesn’t belong to you. No one has a right to it unless _I_ bring it up. And, my trauma is none of your _goddamn_ business!” 

* * *

Zuko inhaled sharply at her interrogations. “Katara! Agni, I believe you– I don’t… Spirits, I would never wish such awful things,” Zuko retorted. “But, I am… I’m hurt you didn’t feel like you could trust me with this, yes,” Zuko affirmed through tears, shaking his head. He was full of frustration, wiping at his face. 

“We were married less than twenty-four hours, and you knew mine,” Zuko added. “I’d never told a soul alive, but in less than twenty four hours you’d been given sight to the deepest pain I’d ever endured. I trusted you with every part of my soul, and you seemed to think it was your goddamn business– but Agni forbid I feel the slightest bit offended that my wife of a decade never even mentioned to me this, but casually speaks of it with the man she’s fucking like it’s plain as day,” Zuko spoke, tears rolling off his chin. 

“But, of course, I’m only treaty husband– not a real husband– Tonraq probably could have made a genuine, good one,” Zuko spoke, keying into his broken heart. 

“What happened to you was horrid, and disgusting, Kat. I understand why you gave Ailya away. And, La, Katara, don’t say you… you asked for it, Spirits, Katara, it’s not your fault,” Zuko spoke through a shaky voice– sickened and furious to think of that, above anything he was hurt or angered by now. 

“Look, I didn’t listen in on you on purpose, and I’m sorry I did, and I’m not angry you didn’t tell me, but I’m hurt you didn’t trust me with this piece of you,” Zuko tried to explain, but it didn’t seem to matter. “And, I shouldn’t have listened, but some of the things you said… with me right there in the room… they hurt me, and I don’t want to imagine what you’re saying to Tonraq when I’m not here,” Zuko choked out. “But, shit, Kat, I don’t give a fuck about any of that when compared to hearing what your father said– what he did…” Zuko whispered.

“Or the Fire Nation soldier… and… fuck, then your father arranged you to marry me,” Zuko spoke, grating his teeth. He hated Hakoda in that moment. “How could he think–? How could he say–? Hakoda loved you, how could he…? I think of Ursa and Kya, and I can’t fathom…” Zuko choked out. 

He shook his head, hurting worst of all for Katara. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m _sorry_.”

* * *

“It doesn’t matter what my father said, he’s dead,” Katara spat, a snarl on her features. “Of course, he died believing his daughter was a slut, but that’s the norm in the Water Tribes. Women aren’t equals, here. Women don’t hold as much value, here.”

Katara looked at her feet, her hands on her hips as she chewed her lip. Her temper had hardly faded, but she decided yelling would only create more problems than it’d solve. She concentrated on a slow, steady breath, choosing her words carefully before speaking. 

“Zuko,” she started, “I do not think Tonraq would’ve made a genuine, good husband to me. _You_ are my husband, my good and loving husband. I only mention the treaty as my reason for never telling you— No one would dare blame a child for his abuse, Zuko, and childhood abuse is what you shared with me, _willingly,_ on our wedding night.”

She pulled her eyes and over his body, sadness in her gaze as she wished they’d never left that night. They’d been happy, and that’d all been dashed across rocks like ship wreckage… so much for the spirits’ blessing. Katara trembled as the tears started anew. 

“I grew up in a tribe where women are blamed for their assault, Zuko, even at the hands of the enemy. And, what I learned fifteen minutes ago has done nothing but drive home my fears of not being believed by you,” she said. “It may have been unfounded and untrue, but that’s how I’ve for ten years. I felt like you’d be angry with me. I thought you’d judge me or treat me like I’m… dirty.”

“So… I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry Tonraq knows and you don’t. But, I was afraid.”  

* * *

“What does the treaty have to do with you being afraid to tell me? Why do you even still think about the treaty in that way? I get mad at my uncle in theory for it– it hurts me, that he sent me away like a pawn to be stamped at the bottom of a page, but in regards to our marriage- between me and you–” Zuko began, “I never think of you that way. The way you spoke to Tonraq sounded like the reason you were afraid to tell me was because of the treaty- because we married due to the treaty.  You said that… that he could never believe someone who’s tied to you because of the law would accept your secrets… like– like I haven’t been there for ten years, like I don’t love you, like you don’t fully trust me, and you can’t– because I’m a treaty husband. I’m a pawn, still, after ten years. I’m just a _piece_ of negotiation in a trade.”

But, her next words struck him silent. They hurt more. He thought of everything, in all its subtleties, but how true it was. He could see it in all the ways his wife strived to rule, and the council’s decisions. Zuko’s chest ached, thinking of how they dismissed her. How could Hakoda dismiss his own daughter? It made Zuko sick to his stomach to think of Kya and Ursa being undervalued. He couldn’t even picture for a second blaming them for something so horrible. Yet, the men who’d grabbed him in the stables all those years ago reiterated that, and from what Katara was saying– they’d done worse to her. He would kill them all with his bare hands if given the chance, now. 

Zuko was quieted by her words, and left with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” whispered Zuko, shaking his head. “I’m sorry they did that to you- and they didn’t believe you, Agni, Kat, you didn’t deserve all that,” Zuko spoke. He wanted to give her the comfort she deserved, but he didn’t want her to think he pitied her. He hated pity himself. He was too prideful for it– he knew Katara had twice the pride he did, and quadruple the warrantedness for it. 

He walked towards her, opening his hands as an offer for her to walk into, simply to let her know he was there, and nothing more. “That’s sick– and it’s wrong,” Zuko stated. “But, I believe you. I believe you through and through- I did when you told me years ago about how they hurt you, and I do right now,” Zuko promised. “And, I believe you about the baby… and I’m not one bit angry,” Zuko swore genuinely. “I understand, Katara, I do. I– I’m not judging you, and Agni, I’d never think you were… dirty, Katara, I love you for La’s sake,” Zuko whispered, tears blinking through despite himself- despite trying to maintain strength for her sake.

“I’m sorry… treaty or not, as your husband, the man who loves you, I haven’t, over the past ten years made it unquestionably clear that you can trust me,” Zuko spoke, sincere in his words. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could go to me, Kat, I really am. All I want is for you to know that I love you, and that I’m here for you for anything– anything under the sun,” Zuko promised, “And, if you… for ten years, couldn’t trust me… Agni, I’m doing something wrong as your husband, and I’m sorry. I want to do better. Please, let me know how I can because… that’s not okay, and I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely. 

“I don’t want the twins to grow up like that, too. I want things to change. I want them to be different, Kat… that’s not okay, and I’m so angry– I’m so angry that people said that about you, and I… I feel sick that Hakoda did, and I know he’s gone, but La, I could kill him.”

* * *

Katara titled her head, regarding Zuko curiously. “Why do you think I’m changing the laws? Why do you think I amended the treaty, gave power to Yue, to you?” she asked. From where she stood, it sounded as though Zuko doubted her, doubted her efforts to do anything for the better. She frowned, frustrated. 

“I’ve written in the ability for our children to flourish here, rise up in the ranks of the military or politics. I’ve placed you in charge of all the trade. I _am_ changing things, Zuko,” she stated. “I’m trying, at least, but there’s things that take more one life time to amend, like views on rape, systematic racism and sexism, and the succession of the throne.” 

“I am doing my best,” Katara said. She grit her teeth, set her jaw. “I really am, even now, with this position I’m in.”  

“I feel like I’ve changed so much for our kids, our daughters especially. And my father may not have been the best man…” she went on. “He made some mistakes with me, with my brother, with my mom, even… but he was _still_ good. He loved me, and he loved his people. I’m able to forgive him for it.” 

* * *

“Katara, of course I know you’re trying your best. You’re doing a great job,” Zuko replied. “I’d never try to undermine how hard you work- especially for our children, our daughters,” Zuko pleaded. “I’m very proud of you, Kat. I hope I’ve made that clear, too. I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished in your short time reigning, amidst the mess of a world you’ve inherited. I would never try to downplay your achievements, Kat- ever,” Zuko assured her. “I’m just frustrated,” Zuko stated. “Not with you, with the whole situation… what they did to you, the attitudes that will be held against our girls,” Zuko tried to explain. 

“I didn’t mean to… disgrace your father, either. But, it’d be a lie to say I couldn’t ring his neck right now,” Zuko stated. “I just– I can’t bear to hear such things. I don’t know how a man could think such horrible things about his own little girls,” Zuko told her, chewing on his lip nervously. “I love you, Kat,” Zuko whispered, “When someone hurts you, it hurts me,” he explained. “I’m angry, mostly at the soldier who dared touch you, but your father for locking you up and not believing you, and your tribe who made him feel like he had to,” Zuko spoke softly, ringing his hands. 

He was knotted in anxiety on the inside, twisting the ring on his finger, a nervous habit he’d copied from Katara. He didn’t want to leave like this. Everything was a mess, and he still felt like he was regarded as smaller for his state as a treaty spouse. “I don’t know… I’m just… I’m sorry.”


	49. Chapter 49

Katara couldn’t help herself. She rolled her eyes at his comment. “Well, I’m sorry _you_ can’t bear to hear such things,” she grit through her teeth. “I imagine it must be terribly hard.”

She wasn’t angry with Zuko, not really. Frustrated, maybe. Katara felt ambushed, but that wasn’t the issue. She was walled up. She couldn’t find the right way to be vulnerable, the right way to show him how much this new information hurt, because Zuko seemed to be taking everything she said as more reason to treat her frailly.

And she didn’t want that. She wanted things to be normal.

Putting a hand to her head, Katara breathed deeply, trying to assuage her temper and hide away the pain in her voice. “Please don’t worry, alright?”

“The kids need you. _I_ need you,” she said, softer and calmer. "I’m okay, Zuko. I promise. It’s okay… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should’ve, but… I don’t know…“

She shrugged, chewed her lip with anxiety. “I never really planned to tell you any of it… and I’m sorry. If I hadn’t had an outburst in front of your cousin and Uncle, I might’ve… I don’t think this ever would’ve been something I shared. It’s… there’s all this shame twisted around it. You know that, just from the assault.”

“And, add Aliya to it?“ Her voice rose with emotion. “I, I feel like I don’t deserve the life I have, the children I have. I just let her go and I haven’t seen her since. This—” Katara gestured around the hut, trying to encompass all of it, Tonraq, the Council, their struggling marriage. “—this is my payback. This is the universe giving me what’s owed.”

 "I gave her away, Zuko. Partly because I was backed into a corner and had no choice, but also because I couldn’t look at her.“ Katara knotted her fingers over her stomach. "I couldn't see those pretty golden eyes and her dark, wavy hair, and not think of the man who hurt me. I knew I’d never be able to love her right and I hate myself for it.” 

* * *

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “Kat… I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant when I said that,” Zuko apologized. “I know that what you’ve went through, and felt pales in comparison to anything I’m…” he took a deep breath, struggling to phrase what he meant properly without causing further damage. “I just– I love you, so hearing about how people hurt you makes me angry and upset, but I know that that is no pain compared to having actually been through it. I don’t mean to sound like… like it’s about me, or something. It’s not, not in the least,” he apologized, a tear rolling down his cheek again. 

Zuko stepped closer once more, leaving his hands open as an extended offer of his embrace, but pushed no further. “Kat… I know you can take care of yourself, I do. No one, other than you yourself, knows that better than me,” he promised. “But, it’s still difficult to take in that someone you love went through so much pain. I just want you to know I’m here, if you need me. That’s… that’s all I’m trying to say,” Zuko spoke, swallowing thickly, listening carefully as she went on about the baby she gave up.

“Kat, love,” Zuko stated, shaking his head, “No one is punishing you. There is no payback. You’re a great wife, and an unquestionably-amazing mom,” Zuko stressed. “You’re an outstanding leader, and I’m sure the Spirits couldn’t be happier with you,” Zuko told her. “You’re selfless in your actions, in everything you do. This might be hurting me, and us, and you yourself, but you’re doing it for the tribe, and your people, and the betterment of them. This is selfless, even if it doesn’t feel that way, even if it doesn’t feel like it is to me– I know, in my head- it _is_.”

Zuko took a deep breath, pushing back the thoughts that echoed in his mind. His mom saw Ozai in him, which was why she was so willing to leave him behind in the palace with him. He knew this was entirely different. Katara still left the baby in safe hands. Katara ensured the baby was loved, above all, and was raised with love in a loving home. She didn’t abandon in the baby; she did what was best for her. 

“Katara, giving Ailya away is the best thing you could have done for her, then,” Zuko told her carefully. “You knew you couldn’t give that little girl the love she deserved, so you let a family who could raise her instead,” Zuko whispered. “That sounds like something a good mother would do, not a bad one,” Zuko explained. “That man was sick and evil, and it’s not your fault, and it wasn’t Ailya’s fault, and you knew it, but you knew you couldn’t push back your justified feelings either, so you let Ailya go. I’m sure she’s happy and healthy and safe, and loved, and that’s because you made the choice to let her have that in her life.”

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek again, and took a deep breath as his eyes watered. “It’s not fair, it’s not right, and it’s cruel- it’s wrong- that you’re made to feel ashamed of any of this that’s happened to you. The only ones who should be ashamed are the Fire Nation soldiers who hurt you, and those who made you feel like it was your fault, because it wasn’t. It couldn’t be, and I wish I could have done something to help… and I’m sorry I didn’t give you enough support to make you feel like you could trust to confide in me, and I’m sorry I grew upset you didn’t tell me because… really, that was on me, not you. I– I don’t know… I’m sorry.”

* * *

“It’s okay, Zuko. It’s a lot to learn about someone, especially indirectly.” Katara looked at him with an apology in her eyes, and when it was met with an equally soft, apologetic look, she stepped into his waiting embrace.

A shaky breath left her as she laid her head down on his chest, but she felt somewhat at peace. She still had the repercussions of this week to face, the problems that would surely arise _because_ Zuko knew about Aliya, now. Would he fear for his children? Would he worry that her affection and love would be limited with a waterbender born into the family?

Katara tried to push away her thoughts, but they only made it was far as the back of her mind. Three more days, she told herself. She had to make it through three more days, then she could home and try to soothe everything that bothered Zuko. Sprits above, there wasn’t the time for it _now._

She slumped in Zuko’s arms, closed her eyes, and fought down the nagging anxiety that she’d have to come out here for a third time.

“I hope to La I’m pregnant,” Katara whispered, not even realizing she’d said it aloud until she heard Zuko’s sigh. “Sorry,” she amended, lifting her head. “I just… I can’t do this, again. It’s hard. This is so hard.”

Katara looked down, staring directly at Zuko’s chest. Her hands were folded over his heart and she tapped his sternum nervously. “I don’t like having to play a part. I don’t like saying goodbye. I don’t like watching you fade in the distance… and things feel… messed up, right now. Just know that I love you, Zuko. I miss you every minute I’m away.” 

* * *

Zuko watched her as she tapped his chest, glad to have her close once more. His mind was still plagued with worry for her, and concern that he was a second-rate husband to her. He watched Katara closely, cupping her cheek, “Don’t be sorry,” he murmured. “I hope you are too. I don’t want you to hurt anymore, and I hate this, too. I just– I want this to end so we can work on healing from it, and getting over the next step,” Zuko spoke, but deep down he feared this would never end. If Tonraq wanted to father his baby, Zuko would never have the end of it. 

His eyes refilled with tears as she spoke, and Zuko pursed his lips. “I hate leaving, and I hate fading out of view, and I miss you every second,” Zuko replied, a tear crossing his cheek once more. He embraced Katara tightly, his chest tight with nerves, and his stomach in knots. He knew the moment he left, Katara would be on her way to a romantic getaway with Tonraq in the hot springs, where they’d inevitably have sex, and flirt, and– Zuko didn’t want to think about it anymore, and just held her tighter. 

“I love you, too.”

* * *

She held Zuko long enough that she lost track of time. Katara wanted the comfort she found in his arms, needed it. She would’ve stood like that all night if duty was nagging at her. Tonraq was waiting. The Council was waiting. She couldn’t keep everyone waiting. 

“Zuko…” Katara broke free of his arms with a quiet sigh, sad eyes drifting up Zuko’s chest to meet his. “I’m sorry, love, I have to go. If I stay here any longer, Tonraq will start to wonder if you took me home. It’s not that I’d rather be with him than you… he’ll just come back. I don’t want to be crying when he does.” 

* * *

Zuko didn’t want to remove himself from her arms. He didn’t care how long he’d been enclosed in her embrace. He could wait like that forever, Spirits willing. But, they weren’t, and this all was broken. Zuko had to pull apart from Katara, and he tried to offer her a smile of encouragement. Zuko’s eyes were incredibly fractured, and there was no fooling Katara. 

Zuko took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled apart from her. “I know,” whispered Zuko, taking a steady breath. He leaned in and pecked her lips. “I love you, Katara,” Zuko murmured, “No matter _what_ ,” he promised, cupping her cheek, and using his thumb to brush over her lips with affection. “I’ll see you in a few days,” Zuko spoke, hearing the words echo in his own head, and clinging to them like a lifeboat. 

He tugged on his coat somberly, and gave his wife one last, lingering glance. He inhaled sharply, and exited the igloo. It once held fond memories of their honeymoon and first days together, but after this all ended, Zuko didn’t think he’d ever set foot in that godforsaken place again. He went out, and saw Druk, nuzzling up to him. It was already dark, and Zuko was still tired, and a ton of bricks weighed on his soul. 

He hopped on Druk, and the whole way home felt emptier and heavier. Those words couldn’t be shaken. He couldn’t stop worrying if he was just a meager treaty husband. Zuko told himself over-and-over that it wasn’t true- couldn’t be- but amidst everything happening, and the way she spoke so casually to Tonraq of it, made him worry. He was scared for what else she might say of him, then. What had she said? And then, he was unable to stop thinking of Katara conceding to Tonraq’s wishes, and holding him, despite her claims made in the weeks prior to Zuko. He was scared they were kissing in the hot springs as he sat in the chilled ice now. He was frightened he’d never be enough again, and the entire day weighed heavily on his soul. He just wanted Katara to come home.

At least he was home, Zuko figured. He stepped off Druk, leading him to his stable. Zuko didn’t think he’d ever been so eager to run to his children before in his life.

* * *

It was near impossible to slip into the mindset she’d had before Zuko’s visit. The first four days had passed by naturally with Tonraq; Katara would’ve preferred being at home, being with her family, but she wasn’t sick, tense, or closed off. Going to the springs, returning to the hut after they were done— now, it felt like a sin.

She’d shared too much, given too much away without thinking of the impact it would have on her husband. Zuko was hurting, because of her. She couldn’t even go home to fix it. Katara felt sick, and it was obvious, even though she did her best to hide it. Tonraq knew her well enough to read the worry in her eyes; although, he didn’t press her with questions.

For that, Katara was grateful. Her façade wasn’t as believable now, but she could hide behind it. She could pretend she was alright when she was beneath him or on top of him. She could smile when it was over, then turn away and bury the nauseating fear she harbored. Would Zuko still want her when she came home? When she was pregnant by another man? Would he still accept her, with all her secrets, after have three days to stew alone? Her dreams taunted her with the horrible possibilities.

///////

On the final day, Katara woke up to the bed shifting beneath another’s weight, and opened her eyes for find Tonraq sitting on the edge. He put a hand on her back and coaxed her awake, rubbing her sore muscles while she yawned and stretched out on her belly. 

“I made breakfast for you,” he whispered. “There’s tea, too. Chamomile. I’m hoping it’ll help with your nerves… You get to go home today, see your kids and Zuko.” Tonraq smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I bet they’re excited.”

Katara shrugged, murmuring sleepily, "I hope. I don’t know.“

"You don’t think they’ll be happy?”

“The kids will." She rolled to her back and looked up at him, then glanced away. "I’m scared to see Zuko. I’m scared we’ll get back to normal and I’ll be forced out here again. But, I’m even more terrified to face him if I _am_ pregnant. I’m just…”

“Sick,” Tonraq finished. She felt his gaze wander over her before he bit his lip and pulled his hand into his lap. “Is it a… _pregnant_ sick?”

“There’s no way for me to know this soon. Morning sickness doesn’t start this early. Besides, I only ever got sick with Hakoda,” Katara said. “The twins and Iroh were easy pregnancies, even if carrying Iroh wore on me. I was twenty-eight when I had him… I’m not _much_ older. Hopefully this one will be the same. Easy. Healthy. A _girl.”_

“You want a girl?”

Katara smiled with a nod. “I do. It would serve the Council right. All their thinly-veiled sexism… and the heir that I produce for them is a beautiful, waterbending woman. I want her to look just like me. Though, maybe with your nose. It fits your face better.”

“That’s a ridiculous notion. Your nose is fine.”  

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval.”

Tonraq chuckled, shaking his head. "What would you name her?“

"Something strong… something special. All the other children are named for someone.” She looked at the ceiling, brows scrunched as she thought. "What about Sokka?“

"After your brother?”

“You don’t like it?” Katara asked.

“I do. I think it’s great. And, from what I know of him, he’d love it, too.”

“Oh, he’d never shut up about it,” she teased. Katara pushed the covers down and sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. She stared down at her feet; a nervous bounce started in one of them. “I just hope that Zuko can… I don’t know. I hope he loves the baby, too.”

* * *

Zuko thought he’d feel better after returning home from visiting Katara, but he only felt worse. He was angry about the injustices against his wife, and he was broken from the words he’d overheard. But, he soldiered on for his children’s sake. They were elated to see him, and crying, asking crankily for their mother. Zuko felt like joining them in their tantrum. He wanted Katara home too– right now, too. 

The next few days passed quietly. Zuko filed Katara’s paperwork, played with the kids, took them out, and spoke to Yue and Pakku. At night, he drank about a gallon of chamomile tea in an attempt to soothe himself in vain. His eyes regained their dark circles, and Zuko could praise Agni for how excited he was that Katara was coming home. 

The children were elated and they all eagerly waited by the porch. Little Iroh was begging incessantly to go out for ice cream. Katara always caved when it came to ice cream. Zuko smirked thinking about it. He’d be glad for things to seem normal again. 

When Katara came up on the sleigh, the children busted through the door, running to her, and Zuko laughed, following suit. 

“Mama!” cried Ursa, and Kya called after, too. Hakoda was at an age where he was trying to act too cool, but he was smiling ear-to-ear, with the same askew grin Zuko held. He hated it on himself, but on Hakoda, Zuko thought it was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. Iroh tripped in the snow as he ran, and Zuko scooped their baby boy, and jogged up to the sleigh. 

He knew it wasn’t fair, but he wanted to rip Tonraq from the sleigh, and tell him to never come back. Instead, he deliberately avoided his gaze, and kept it on Katara. Zuko laughed as the children attacked her like some civilians would when she went to town. 

As she hugged their children, Zuko leaned in and pecked her lips while giving her their baby boy to hold. “I’m so, _so_ happy you’re home, my love.”


	50. Chapter 50

Katara was mess throughout the journey home. Her fingers ached from wringing them together so tightly, the inside of her bottom lip was bleeding from digging her teeth into it, and she was trembling. Nothing helped, not the tea or the fresh, cold air or Tonraq trying to reassure her everything would be alright: she’d be back with her family.

In that regard, he was right. It was a simple thing to fall into the arms of her kids. They piled on top of her in the show, squealing. Hakoda hung back like the sulky grown-up he was trying to be, until Katara grabbed him ‘round the waist and tugged him towards the family hug.

“Taking after your father more and more, I see,” Katara teased him. “Trying to brood and scowl already. You’re only ten, my son. Save all the pensive looks until your thirteen, at least.”

“I’ll be eleven in three months!” he protested, though a smile broke out on his lips and Hakoda wrapped his arms around Katara’s neck. The twins giggled anew, smothering their brother and mother in kisses. The three of them tried to keep her down in the snow, but as Zuko approached with Iroh, she fought them off and got to her feet.

“And how’s my favorite little man?” she asked, nuzzling Iroh’s wind-bitten nose. She propped the toddler on her hip and pecked Zuko’s nose next.

“And my husband?” Katara swallowed, nervous as her eyes opened and drifted up to his. All she’d dreamt about for three days was never having those eyes smile at her again. "I missed you, my love.“ 

“Where were you, Momma?” Kya had shoved her sister down in the snow, and was now looking at Katara very expectantly. Her scowl darted to the sled. “And who’s that?”

Tonraq scoffed a little under his breath, amused. “I’m just a friend of your mother,” he said, setting the last of Katara’s things in the snow for the palace staff. “We had a business trip. Boring, adult stuff, Princess. It wouldn’t interest royalty, such as you.”

“Princess, hmm?” The eight year old tapped her foot, then smiled. “Did you hear that, Ursa? He called me a prin—”

Ursa was on her feet, bickering with her sister in a second. “I’m a princess, too! Mom’s a queen, _stupid!”_

Tonraq’s face shifted to surprise. He threw a pleading look across the way at Katara just as she scowled. “Ursa, do not call your sister stupid. You’re _both_ princesses, but right now you’re behaving like little brutes.”

“Brute!” Iroh clapped his hands. “Sissy’s a brute! She’s a brute!”

“It seems _your_ son has learned a new word,” Katara teased Zuko. Iroh was still going on, even after Katara stooped and set the three-year old down in the snow. “Have fun getting him to stop saying it.” 

* * *

Zuko laughed at the loving reunion of his wife and their children, and quietly wished that Katara had never gone off with Tonraq. Things were perfect before, but Zuko supposed that perhaps they were too perfect. Something had to be stirred. There was no such thing in life as such consistent happiness. 

Zuko scowled at Tonraq as he joked with his daughter. He wanted to tell Tonraq to shut the fuck up and never speak to his children again, but he thought wiser of it in the presence of the kids. He took a deep breath and turned back to Katara, putting a hand on her back as she reunited with her children.

Zuko leaned in and kissed Katara’s cheek again, acting still like Tonraq wasn’t even there, like Zuko wished he never even fucking was. 

“We should take the kids to Ember Island again, soon,” Zuko suggested, leaning in to try to coax them all inside and away from the man who seemed to threaten all Zuko knew and held dear.

* * *

“Yeah, that’d be nice. They’d love it,” Katara agreed. “Maybe after this baby? I… I really don’t feel secure leaving right now. I just— I need a healthy baby, okay?” Her voice had taken on a panicked note. "A healthy heir, then the Council will leave me alone and we can go anywhere.“

Her eyes met Zuko’s, and Katara wondered if hers gave away how desperate she felt. She wanted to just go along. She wanted to play this happy game and slip into normalcy, but something about the palace made her uneasy. The Council was invading every nook and cranny. Servants were whispering things. She wasn’t safe there, within her own home.

She swallowed, exhaling shakily as Zuko tried to tug her along. “Wait. Wait, I… I can’t go in.” Katara wrapped her hand around Zuko’s forearm, holding on to steady herself. It had to be the release of anxiety that was making her feel so dizzy. “I can’t. I can’t go in there, Zuko. I’m sorry.”

Behind her, seemingly far off, she heard Tonraq call her name. “Katara?”

“Momma?”

The concern in Tonraq’s voice made the ever-vigilant Hakoda perk up. He looked up at her with worried eyes, taking her free hand as tears burned behind her lashes.

“I’m alright, sweetheart,” Katara said. “I’ve been under a lot of stress and gotten very little sleep.”

Hakoda’s lips pursed. “Why not? Sleep is important.”

“I know. I’ll do my best to get some sleep tonight. Why don’t you run ahead with your sisters? Have the kitchen make us all some tea and cookies. Nothing helps like some sweets.”

Naturally, all the siblings shot ahead at the mention of sugar. The twins grabbed one of Iroh’s hands in theirs, bouncing and swinging him along while he squealed. Katara smiled after them as they ran towards the palace. Her fingers still clutched at Zuko, but she looked over her shoulder at Tonraq.

“Thank you, Captain. I’ll send a messenger to you before our next meeting.”

It was a dismissal. She didn't need to keep holding his gaze to know he was hurt by it. She’d either be journeying back to the hut with him in three weeks or telling him he was father; there was no need for any other pretense between them. He bowed at the waist and took his bags, a ’ _Good day, my Lady’_ drifting back.

With Tonraq gone, Katara turned back to Zuko, her voice low, “Is Druk in the stables?” 

* * *

Zuko was worried by the desperation in his wife’s tone. She seemed afraid, almost, of their own home. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but she brushed past it so quickly he missed the chance.

Instead, Zuko put a hand on her back, and tried to ease her. He was glad to be rid of Tonraq. The mere sight of him put a spike in Zuko’s blood pressure.

When Katara spoke- Zuko knew what she meant. Every time they’d gone to Druk before, after Hakoda’s birth, it’d been joyfully. This time, Zuko was sullen, and he could tell Katara was, too. He knew no matter what, the two of them would love the baby unconditionally and as fully as their others, but it felt wrong- the way the child was being brought into the world.

Zuko opened the door to Druk’s stables, and smiled at the beast. “Look who’s home!” Zuko called to the dragon.

* * *

It was a running joke that Druk, who’d hatched for and been raised by Zuko, preferred Katara over him. Maybe the dragon sensed Zuko’s attachment to her, and felt the bond himself. Or, it could’ve simply been that she was woman with children who spent a large amount of time near him. Zuko told her years ago that male dragons were defensive of females and young; Druk was no different.

He lifted his scaled head with a low grunt, giving his acknowledgement of Zuko’s approach. His golden eyes showed little interest, but, from her place behind Zuko’s shoulder, Katara spotted the end of Druk’s tail twitching. His wings rustled slightly too; he was showing off, even if he feigned disinterest.

Maybe Zuko’s mood had rubbed off on him, Katara mused. He was going to be aloof, grumpy.

Cautiously, she stepped around her husband, wondering when the dragon would catch her scent, _hoping he’d snap_. He always did. Katara could learn about a pregnancy weeks before her missed period all because Druk became overprotective, even towards his rider.

“Druk…” Katara greeted him softly, coming closer. “How are you? I missed you.”

His gaze flicked to her. Sometimes, Katara swore he could understand everything, like some sentient being had chosen to manifest as a dragon. His eyes were always watchful, always intelligent. They were soft, too, as Katara approached him.

Druk lowered his head and bumped her with his nose, a purring sound coming from his throat as his breath washed over her. Katara laughed, nuzzling him. It was impossible not to feel a sliver of disappointment. He was behaving normally, towards her, towards Zuko— Although, she had no idea how she’d feel if the dragon had confirmed a pregnancy.

Relief? Terror? _Excitement?_

Katara huffed. She heard Zuko sigh, too; the straw crunched behind her as he walked over. She kept her eyes down, rubbing Druk’s nose and trying not to—

The dragon reared up so quickly, Katara almost fell back. Then, he was towering over her, keeping her between his front claws while a snarl built in his throat. Smoke came with it, puffing from his nostrils. He bared his teeth, wholly focused on whatever was behind her.

She knew without looking back, though Katara turned around anyway. Zuko was but a single stride from her, a hand outstretched to offer whatever she needed. Now, he was frozen, staring up at the dragon.

“I guess we have our answer,” she said. Her voice was flat, _so_ flat. “I’m pregnant.” 

* * *

Katara was pregnant, but he didn’t feel the same giddy joy that was typical of her announcing she was pregnant and Druk’s telling hisses at him. Zuko gave her a small smile because she, too, didn’t seem thrilled. His heart ached, and he held sympathy for the baby to come. Didn’t he or she deserve joy at their arrival, too? Zuko knew when the baby came along, for real, they’d be greeted with love, but it still felt… _sad_. 

All of it did, really.

Zuko approached Katara, a small smile on his face, still. He swallowed thickly and opened his arms into an extended embrace. He was hurt– knowing that Katara was having another man’s baby. It didn’t hit yet, still, but he was forced to think about it more. This would be Tonraq’s baby– he would come in and lie next to Katara in the infirmary, and hold the baby. They’d laugh together, and kiss the face of their son or daughter- together. The baby would have Tonraq’s nose or smile, or laugh. Katara might comment on how his eyes looked just like Tonraq’s, or the precious things the baby got from their father, Tonraq. The baby would be a little piece of Katara and Tonraq. Raising a family was no longer something Katara reserved solely for her husband, and that hurt more than the sex did. 

Zuko pursed his lips among the threat of an onslaught of tears. He felt guilty for feeling this way- and he felt relief too. At least all the sex and alone time with that son of a bitch was over. So Zuko prayed. If the baby wasn’t a waterbender, Agni knew what would happen. Katara may even be too old to birth another by the time they found out. Still yet, without the sex and the hut, Tonraq would haunt him forever. That bastard was going to be in his house, with his children, with his wife, for the rest of his life. Zuko hated that, and he knew in the rational part of his mind, that it wasn’t fair. But, Zuko hated Tonraq- he didn’t even want to look at him. Seeing him made him see nothing but flames of fury. How in the hell was Zuko supposed to live with him? All but share his wife with him? That jackass was going to all but be a contracted husband to Katara.

Zuko didn’t want to think on it any longer, and eventually he felt Katara step into his arms, and he held her close, pressing his hand to the back of her head affectionately. “Congratulations,” whispered Zuko.


	51. Chapter 51

_ “Congratulations.”  _

Was she deserving of that? She didn’t feel like it.

A week after learning she was pregnant, Katara placed a hand on her belly. It was late. Zuko was asleep beside her, breathing softly with his face buried in the pillow, though he may as well have been leagues away. They hardly spoke to one another, certainly didn’t touch each other. She was tempted to touch him now, to caress his cheek. He couldn’t pull back or stiffen up.  _La_ , she missed him. 

Katara could just make out the ridge of his brow in the glowing moonlight. A _full moon_ , she thought, looking towards the windows. 

She pushed the covers off her body and slipped out of bed, walking to the etched glass. Her nose bumped the pane as she stared up at the sky; how easy it would be to end this. A simple flick of her fingers and the burden in her belly, the barrier between herself and her husband would be gone.

Katara looked across the room at her sleeping husband. He’d probably be glad the baby was gone; not a single piece of Tonraq lingering around. Except… she’d be free for a second, then locked away in the hut to try again. Her eyes returned to the window, to the sleeping city that glistened white in the moonlight.

She dropped her hand from her stomach and went back to bed.

///////

Week two.

Katara should’ve had her period. Missing it made the pregnancy feel more real, despite Druk being the truest test. Missing it made Katara sick at the similarities this pregnancy shared with Aliya’s. Another life she didn’t want to carry. Another child she’d both love and resent. Another baby that was innocent and good, wholly underserving of the circumstances surrounding them.

At least the father wasn’t a rapist.

Katara still had to tell Tonraq. She had yet to tell anyone outside of Zuko, actually. Years ago, when they were trying to get pregnant themselves, Katara would keep the secret for a month before mentioning it to her husband, even. The faint beginnings of new life didn’t always stick; no reason for them both to experience the twinge of heart ache when her bleeding started.

In this case, it was right to tell Zuko this early. He was owed some relief and rest, some assurance that she wouldn’t be leaving their home again. Or… _his_ home. It wasn’t hers anymore, not with the secrets being whispered into Zuko’s ears and the subtly growing bond Zuko found in Yue. It was easy for them, when both their spouses were cheaters.

Katara joined them once or twice for tea. She wasn’t blind. Now, she just made sure she was busy, told herself she didn’t care and she would never care. It didn’t matter, as long as Zuko found comfort somewhere.

At the end of the second week, she barely glanced up as Yue came by her office to invite Zuko along for a walk.

 _Kazu has all this energy; he wants to play in the snow with his cousins,_ she said, _but Iroh is very insistent about his father being included. Why don’t you come, Zuko?_

Katara stared at the closed door once they were gone, then barked for a guard:

“Send a messenger to the harbor. I need to speak with Tonraq.”

////////

Two hours later, she had the captain sitting across from her. He waited patiently for her to speak, arms folded, eyes soft and blue. Katara was glaring at the door again. Zuko still wasn’t back. She made herself ignore the slight pang that sent through her system and averted her gaze to Tonraq. 

“I’m pregnant,” Katara said, flat and cold.

“Oh.” For a second, Tonraq’s face was the exact mirror of Zuko’s when the truth came out— some relief, some happiness, some… tragedy. He tried to hide it with a smile. “That’s good.” He still looked skeptical. “Isn’t it? Are you happy?”

“Thrilled,” she shot back, voice too sharp.

A heavy silence pervaded her office. Katara slumped back in her seat, her eyes carefully focused on the top of her desk. She hadn’t spoke to anyone about the pregnancy, aside from the brief, fleeting questions of _‘how are you? did you get enough rest?’ do you want ginger tea?’_  that Zuko threw at her out of obligation. No one knew the thoughts hanging around her head like dark clouds; no one knew how she felt about Aliya, how this felt similar, how she hated herself for thinking that—

Except the man sitting across from her, watching her. _Goddamn_ , it’d be so easy to let her walls slip. It’d be so fucking easy. Tonraq had been there for it the first time. He said he would be here this time. Her husband wasn’t talking to her, looking at her, touching her… Did Tonraq sense it?

He leaned forward, looking earnest and sincere. “Katara, if you need someone to ta—”

“No,” Katara snapped. She put her foot down, shut her aching heart down. “I don’t need anything, not from you," she said. "It was fine in the hut, but we agreed what happened there, what was said there, it stays there. I’m here, now, in my… in the palace. I’m a mother and a wife.”

* * *

The weeks had been difficult. Zuko was feeling distant from his wife. She was pulling back from him amidst the discovery of her pregnancy, and it was killing him. He felt lonelier and lonelier by the day, and a dark part of Zuko’s head wondered if she was returning to Tonraq. Tonraq knew things Zuko didn’t, so maybe Katara thought that Tonraq would understand her better. 

He tried to get involved, and help her like he had with their own children’s birth, but he didn’t know what role Katara wanted him to play. Did she want Zuko to be the dad, despite Tonraq being the father? Was Tonraq going to parent alongside her? Zuko didn’t know, and Katara was cryptic. She felt far away, and it was shattering Zuko’s heart. 

She was always his best friend, his person, the one he went to for everything, and now he felt pushed to the sidelines. He missed her, and wanted her back. He only ever seemed to talk to Pakku and Yue now. Of course, his children as well, they could never know of these horrid complexities that plagued their parents’ minds. 

Zuko had just gone out for a walk with Yue, and Yue began to probe him. 

“Do you ever feel sidelined? By Katara, I mean?” asked Yue, and Zuko looked at her sharply. 

The answer was yes, but he didn’t want to say so. He didn’t want to say he felt the similarity he knew she was leading to allude to about his cousin and Su and his wife and Tonraq. They had alternate families, and now everything felt wrong. Katara didn’t want to, Zuko assured himself. Katara loved him. Didn’t she? 

“No,” Zuko spoke curtly, and Yue shook her head. 

“I know Katara would never mean to, but…” Yue began, putting her hand on Zuko’s arm gently, “Lu Ten didn’t really mean to, either, but our spouses didn’t choose this life, either, Zuko. Lu Ten chose Su, and… Katara had chosen Tonraq before… and… we were only there for a treaty and to give an heir, and they don’t even want us for that. We’ve been used, Zuko, even if it’s not our spouses’ faults.”

“Yue– that… that isn’t so. Katara did away with the marriage part of the treaty. She could be rid of me if she wanted, but she doesn’t. She would crown Hakoda if she could. I’m sorry for what  my cousin did, I said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times. But, Yue… I know she’s your best friend, but… I just– please don’t speak of her like that,” Zuko spoke, sighing deeply. He wish he didn’t feel the rift Yue alluded to. “I have to go.”

“Zuko, I’m sorry!” called Yue, but Zuko kept walking. 

He went back to Katara’s office, a sudden jolt of energy to fix this rift that had been made in the past two weeks. Zuko flung open the door eagerly– only to see Tonraq in there, and his heart stopped in his chest, and his energy faded to a dying ember in his heart. He lowered his head, and softened, his hands falling in defeat to his sides. 

“Sorry… I-I guess I should learn to knock.”

* * *

Katara started when the door burst open; the office had been thick with silence and private musings. The sudden commotion made her jump in her seat. But, her eyes immediately softened at the sight of her husband. 

“Zuko… _Hi._ I didn’t expect you back until this evening.” There was a note of relief to her voice, although Katara attempted to hide it. She didn’t want Zuko to know she was hurting, not after the months she’d spent hurting him. Whatever comfort he found, he could have, even if it was someone else. 

“Did you have a nice walk with Yue?” She gestured for him to come in and sit. “I was just informing Tonraq of the g— of the news. Nothing too serious, and nothing that can’t be interrupted.” 

Katara gave the captain a pointed look and a curt nod, who took the hint and stood up. “We’d just finished, anyway. I’ll be out of your way, Cheiftess Katara, Prince Zuko.” Tonraq bowed and dismissed himself from the room. 

Katara waited until the door swung shut behind him to turn her gaze to Zuko. “I really don’t think you need to worry about knocking on any doors that lead to me, Zuko. The relationship between Tonraq and I is over; it was purely to conceive a child, as I promised.” 

* * *

Zuko glared at Tonraq as he left the room. Zuko rolled his eyes, still full of jealous disdain for the man. He was glad when he left the room, and he was left simply with his wife, and Zuko smiled smally, meeting his wife’s pretty blue gaze. There was a pensive sadness lingering in them that Zuko urged to assuage innately. 

“The walk was fine,” replied Zuko, putting his hand over the desk as a reach for her own. “I just wish you’d have been there. That’d have made it a lot better,” Zuko spoke in a whisper earnestly, trying to reconnect with her desperately. 

“Kat… I know… I know you won’t be with him any longer, but… the relationship can’t be over,” Zuko said with a deep sigh, looking down at his hand. “It never will be. You aren’t ending a relationship with someone when you’re raising your child alongside him,” Zuko spoke, pinching the bridge of his nose. The headache would go on for the rest of their lives. “I know it’s only fair to Tonraq– it’s right. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but… it’s not over. It never will be _over_ , Kat.”

* * *

“It _is_ over, Zuko.” Katara dropped her gaze to his hand. Her fingers were a mere inch away, painfully aware of how badly she wanted to touch him, but she didn’t move. There was an undercurrent of resentment, Katara thought, and when he said this wouldn’t end, he meant the distance in their marriage, too.  

She supposed she should’ve seen that coming. He’d spent more time with Yue than with her in the past two weeks, not that Katara faulted him for it. She just felt stupid now, thinking somehow they’d come through this when everything about them seemed so forced. Even his hand on the desk… because a sigh escaped Zuko’s lips and he scowled. 

Katara looked aside. “I don’t think Tonraq will be raising the child. We were discussing that very thing before you arrived.” 

“He wants the baby to have a normal life, a happy life with loving parents and accepting siblings. The blatantly obvious strain between us, since this started, will result in anything but. Tonraq’s not blind; he knows the strain will only persist, particularly if he remains involved,” Katara said, pulling her eyes up. Zuko’s were dark, carrying none of the light he usually had for her. 

_Get over it,_ she scolded herself. Katara sighed. “And, I doubt you care at all about his feelings, but I feel it’s good for you to know more of his reasoning: _he_ wants a normal life, too. Tonraq doesn’t want to add to the obstacles between us if he can avoid it.” 

“He’s asked that he be allowed to give his parental rights to you,” she explained. Her eyes burned as she said it. Katara pursed her lips, scowling to hide it. 

Maybe it was different for Tonraq, for men. They didn’t carry the child for nine months. They weren’t forced to bond with it because of ridiculous instincts and useless chemicals in their heads. Maybe he wouldn’t feel the guilt that she felt; he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life hurting, wondering, wishing he’d been better and done better, like Katara did for Aliya. 

She could be told a thousand times that it wasn’t her fault, that she did what was best, but her own father didn’t believe her. Her tribe never would. Her husband hadn’t even broached the subject, hadn’t asked how she felt, despite how obvious the similarities were. Maybe he believed she could’ve done better, too. 

Katara couldn’t help the tears that fell from her lashes, then. She leaned forward, elbows on her desk and head in her hands. Her fingers tugged at her hair, pulling it out of the bun pinned in place by Ursa’s crown. 

“All Tonraq wants is to meet his child after he or she is born, perhaps _help_  while I’m recovering, and after, he’d like to be granted some visits… birthdays, holidays…”

She swallowed around the emotion in her voice. Katara hoped Zuko knew how much it’d damage her if he said no. She would’ve given anything to know Aliya; as much tension as it put on her marriage, she didn’t want to deny Tonraq that right. 

“I think it’s reasonable,” Katara said. “He gets a relationship with the child, but he’s not going to be a parent to the child. We— we can do that.” 

* * *

Zuko stood when tears fell from her eyes. He couldn’t bear to see his wife cry. He yearned to comfort her, but his heart still felt the sting of her rejection of his hand. He decided to go out on a whim and cup her cheek anyway, brushing away the tears with his thumb. “Kat,” Zuko murmured. “Shhh, don’t cry. It’ll be okay,” he tried to assure her.

He pursed his lips, hurt by her assumptions about him. “I’m not a monster, Kat. I assumed Tonraq would want to father his son or daughter- I had no clue I was going to… until now. Of course he can see his own baby, Agni. Me, of all people—- Kat, I’m not _evil_ ,” Zuko tried to assure her. “I’m not going to keep a man from seeing his child.”

“Tonraq might anger me, but I know he’s a good man,” Zuko tried to explain, still hurt from Katara’s implications on his character. “Of course he deserves to see the baby on any occasion he wants,” Zuko emphasized. He was relieved though, he wanted to raise the child. He wanted to integrate this baby into their family. It was the only hope of ever being normal.

“Please trust me.”

* * *

“Why would I not trust you?” Katara asked. Her thoughts immediately offered up Yue, and the hot, sinking feeling she got in her gut whenever the princess came for her husband. But what did it matter? Katara spent two weeks making Zuko feel the same way.

She pulled her chin from his hand, frowning, and looked away. “I have no reason to think you won’t be a good father to the child, Zuko, and that’s what matters to all of us— that the child has a happy, normal life with a functional family unit.”

* * *

“The child?” Zuko spoke, disappointed, but not surprised when she pulled away from his tender touch. “Kat, you mean your baby– your son or daughter,” Zuko whispered, shaking his head, concerned for her. “Kat… I- I’m not talking about me. I– We’re talking about Tonraq and you,” Zuko tried to explain. 

“I know Tonraq can be involved– has every right to. This isn’t my baby, Kat,” Zuko tried to reason. “Katara, I’m worried about _you_ … and… and I hardly see you anymore, or I do, and we don’t talk… you don’t… you don’t look at me, won’t touch me,” Zuko said, tears building in his eyes as he went on.

“You won’t talk to me about what’s going on, and I can see you’re upset, Kat, I still know you, but you– I… I feel like you’re shutting down around me, and I don’t know what to do,” Zuko explained, a tear escaping to roll down his cheek. “I’m the same man you _married_ , Katara.”

* * *

“How am I supposed to talk to you, Zuko? How am I supposed to be open with you about my feelings, about the child I’m carrying?” Katara shot a hard look at him. “ _The_ child,” she said again, teeth grit. “La knows I can’t say _mine._ How many groveling apologies would that require?”

Katara’s glare turned to ice. It was unexpected, the resentment and rage that suddenly boiled over. She couldn’t discern if it was meant for him, or if she was simply directing her loneliness and brewing anger at him, but it came up violently. “I’ve already apologized. A hundred times over. I can do it again, if you’d like?”

“I’m sorry, Zuko. I’m sorry I’m so weak. I’m sorry I gave into the sexist fucks on my Council. I’m sorry I couldn’t do something so impersonal as allow a stranger to rape me!” Katara spat, unbidden, uncontrollable tears rolling off her cheeks. “I’m sorry I don’t know what else to say to you. And I’m sorry I’m having this baby,” she choked. “I don’t— _I don’t want it.”_

Katara took her hand from the desk and covered her mouth, fighting for composure. It wasn’t any use against her falling tears, but once she felt she had control over the wracking sobs, Katara lowered her hand.

“I just don’t have a single clue how I’m supposed to talk to you,” she said, sounding broken. “You act like it’s so easy, when you’re either with Yue or Pakku. Then, when we’re together, I get nothing but sad, longing looks. You don’t touch me, either, Zuko. But why should you? I’m carrying another man’s baby! I’m not so stupid as to expect anything from you, and I certainly won’t when the pregnancy starts showing.”

She pulled her eyes from his and directed her stare to her desk’s smooth, wooden top. “But go on,” Katara whispered. “Worry about me. Be concerned for me. La, maybe if more people fretted over how I felt, over what this may do to me, I wouldn’t be having a _sixth_ baby. Then again…” Katara shrugged flippantly. “Would they even believe me?”

* * *

Zuko’s voice cracked again on a sob, “I don’t want any more apologies!” Zuko shouted. “I’m not asking for them! I don’t want them! I don’t like seeing you grovel in guilt! I hate it! I don’t want you to feel guilty or bad! What’s done is done– I don’t want that!” Zuko cried, tears slipping free shamelessly now. He could feel the hatred in her gaze and it was enough to churn his gut, and make his heart sink there. 

“Katara!” Zuko exclaimed when she broke on the sob, trying to console her. It was instinctive- he couldn’t just watch her cry, even if she didn’t want his comfort. “Katara, love, stop that– please, don’t say that,” Zuko urged, putting his hand to his head. “Kat, the last thing I wanted was a stranger– agni!” Zuko spoke, clenching hard as tears fell in pent up frustration. 

He saw Katara wobble to her desk, and start to sob and that was when Zuko bulldozed any walls. He couldn’t bear it anymore. “Hey, hey– _hey_ ,” Zuko whispered, pulling her from the desk and into his embrace. “Shhh, don’t cry, please,” Zuko whispered, stroking her back as he pressed his head to hers, his own tears sliding across his face. “Don’t, shhh, it’s okay– it’ll be okay, please,” Zuko urged, his hands shaking, and his stomach in knots. 

“I believe you, I believe you, I do,” Zuko promised her. “You can talk to me. You can, Katara, you can,” Zuko tried to assure her. “Please talk to me, please,” he urged. “Katara, please. You can trust me, please,” he urged, holding her tighter. 

“I love you.”

* * *

“I don’t feel like you do,” Katara sobbed, collapsing in Zuko’s embrace. He held her tight, supported her weight; she buried her face in his tunic and cried, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t. I don’t feel it.” 

“You don’t love me. You can’t,” she said, soft and haunted. Her voice was hallow, cracked by tears and emotion. “Not how you used to. Everything’s broken now. _I_ broke everything, and I don’t— what- what do we do? How do we fix it?” 

“I mean, look at us.” Katara lifted her head, making fists in his shirt. She was afraid he’d vanish if she let go. “We spend as much time as we can avoiding each other until one of us crumbles. That’s not healthy. That’s not good. Three months ago we couldn’t get enough of each other. We’d grumble at the thought of a few hours apart.” 

She bit her lip against the cries tightening up in her throat. “I just don’t know what to do,” Katara whispered, resting her head on Zuko’s chest. “All I want is you. I want you back. But, I feel like I’ll never that, not how I used to.” 

* * *

Zuko felt his heart crumbling. The hit was sharp, and he felt like a failure. The most important thing in the world to him was making his family feel loved. If Katara and their children didn’t feel loved, he’d failed– as a father, and as a husband. Zuko couldn’t hold back the tears, as he shook his head, squeezing her forearms tight. 

“Of course I love you, Katara, Agni, I love you so fucking much,” Zuko told her, his voice low and broken. “I could never stop loving you, Katara,” Zuko tried to plead with her to believe him, but she was right about their marriage being a mess. Their whole lives were in disarray. They were in pieces, and he knew it because he could feel his heart was, too.

He wrapped his arms around her as she clung to him, resting her head on his chest. Zuko pressed his cheek to the top of her head, and held her close as his own tears fell. “We have to,” Zuko whispered. “I miss you,” he told her quietly. “I hate this,” he admitted. “I hate it so much,” he explained. “What do we do? We– We can’t let this continue like this… we need to do something… or… or talk to someone… that woman– Yugoda,” Zuko said, pulling back from Katara to look at her clearly, and meet her saddened, but always-pretty gaze. 

Zuko cupped Katara’s cheeks and stroked at her tears, “Why don’t we try? We can talk to her. I want to _try_.”

* * *

“You want to try _therapy?_ That’s your answer?” She shook her head, pulling free of Zuko’s grasp as her palms flatted on his chest. Katara left them there, torn between pushing him away and staying close. In the end, she dropped her hands and stepped back, gaze on the carpeted floor. 

“I have enough difficulty opening up _to you_ about this, and you’re my husband, Zuko,” she said, strained. It made her uneasy, even hypothetically, to think of letting someone she hardly knew in on all her secrets. There was no one around she trusted anymore, not with _all_ of her.

Katara put a hand over her breast; her heart was thundering. Her stomach was sick. She reminded herself to breathe.

“I don’t know… you want me to spill my soul to stranger?” Disbelief leaked into her voice. “I couldn’t tell you about the biggest loss of my life and I still can’t… I can’t even brush _the surface_ of how I feel about it… You want me to let a stranger invade our marriage, give her opinions, and— _what?”_

Katara snorted and rubbed her forehead. “What will she even do? Put her glowing hands on us and _heal it?_ If it were that easy, I would’ve fixed us weeks ago, Zuko.”  

* * *

“I don’t _know_!” cried Zuko, “I don’t know what to do, that’s why I’m saying try this! Because what else do we do, Kat? What else?” Zuko spoke. “I refuse to give up,” he stated, his voice breaking as she pulled away from him, and found himself with the same worried doubt she just professed to him. Did she still love him? Was she still _in love_ with him? Tears slipped free, and he put his hand over his face. 

“Maybe she can help… she has an outside perspective, maybe she can… I don’t know, give insight to things we can’t see ourselves,” Zuko tried to cajole her. “What do we have to lose at this point, Kat? How are we going to fix this otherwise? We– We have to,” Zuko pleaded with her.

“It’s obviously not going to be easy or fun! But to me, this, us, our marriage, our family is worth trying!” Zuko cried. “I’ll try anything! I don’t want to lose you, Kat! I can’t! I don’t want to lose what we have! You’re _it_ , Kat. There’s no one else for me. I don’t— please try. _Please_.”

* * *

“Fine,” Katara said, her breath leaving in a rush. “Fine, I’ll go. Just… set a date or whatever. Let me know when and I’ll be there.” She drug a hand down her face, then dropped it to her side, where she formed a fist. She hoped it would hide the anxious tremor in her fingers. 

“I _am_ sorry,” she murmured through grit teeth. Katara made herself visibly relax, dropping her shoulders with a tense, short sigh. “I never wanted anything like this to happen. I never really thought it would. It just… it makes the last ten years feel like a waste, like we fell in love just to fall apart.” 

She lifted her gaze to Zuko, wearing a sad smile. “But, whatever you think we need, whatever you want to do… I’ll try.” 

* * *

“Okay, good… good,” whispered Zuko, pulling Katara into his arms slowly. He swallowed thickly, and tucked his chin onto her shoulder as he rubbed her back and tears fell. “Thank you,” whispered Zuko, pressing his head against hers to take in her scent, the feel of her skin, her warmth. Zuko inhaled a sharp sob, but more tears soaked his cheek, falling from his chin. He didn’t want to lose Katara; she was his best friend. 

“It’s not a waste, Kat. It could _never_ be a waste… you’ve given me the greatest ten years of my life, and four beautiful children I wouldn’t trade for the world,” Zuko spoke through a croaky voice. 

“We’ll fix this, my love… we will,” Zuko promised her. “I know we can, okay? And, I’m sorry… I’m sorry I let it get this far… and I do love you. I always will.”

 

 


	52. Chapter 52

Katara was pulled from her office the next day. Zuko had spoken with Yugoda that morning, he said, and the healer offered to sit with both of them before supper. Her husband seemed positive when he came to collect her. If it was only surface level, Katara couldn’t tell. Either way, his hopeful smile didn’t do much to quell her insecurities. 

She was lead by him towards the guest quarters where Yugoda was staying and had chosen to meet with them. Zuko said it was so they’d feel comfortable: a room they were familiar with, a safe place in their own home. 

Katara didn’t have the heart to tell Zuko that the palace felt like more of prison, lately; nor did she have the chance. He knocked on the healer’s door and Yugoda answered quickly, letting them in. 

“Welcome, Katara, Zuko.” Yugoda waved them over to the sitting area. She had tea and cookies waiting, set out on a coffee table that complimented a pillow-covered couch. 

Katara waited for Zuko to sit, then found a spot next to him. Yugoda glanced over the sliver of space between them before offering them the tray of sweets. 

“Some sugar? The stomach is the way to one’s heart.” 

“A man’s heart,” Katara corrected, folding her arms. “The saying says it’s the way to  _a man’s_ heart. Women are far more complicated creatures.”

“You’re not hungry, Katara?”

She shook her head. “I can’t eat. Everything’s making me sick as of late.” 

“Hmm.” The old woman’s lips pursed, in a kind of knowing, wise way that Katara didn’t like. It reminded her of Pakku… before she’d whipped sense into him. Unfortunately, Yugoda didn’t strike Katara as the type to bend under the threat of force. 

Katara’s scowl darkened as she watched the healer put the cookies aside and pour all three of them tea. 

“I’d like to touch on that,” Yugoda said, handing Katara a steaming tea cup. “It seems like a good place to start… Can you think of anything that might be upsetting you? Maybe making you feel anxious and sick?”  

“I’m pregnant,” she deadpanned. 

“Yes, you are… that’s a big change in and of itself; however, given the circumstances surrounding this baby—” 

“—the circumstances?” Katara faltered. Her eyes flicked sideways to Zuko, a hot thread of betrayal running down her spine. She hadn’t realized Zuko would tell Yugoda everything, every dirty little detail that Katara’d rather take her grave.  _Was everyone spilling her secrets these days?_

Yugoda pulled Katara’s attention pack. “Prince Zuko went over what I needed to know this morning. Obviously, your marriage didn’t unravel overnight. Something had to have happened… your relationship with Tonraq, both past and present, is likely a catalyst for your troubles and your unease, Katara.” 

“Or…” Katara growled, “I’m sick because I’m pregnant. That’s not at all uncommon. You’re supposed to be a healer; don’t you know that?” 

* * *

The air intensified as soon as his wife entered the room. It made Zuko tense, and his stomach tighten anxiously, afraid he’d mess up, and send her running. He felt they were walking a tightrope, and one wrong move and he’d fall of the edge. The last thing Zuko wanted to do was hurt her, even in his own honesty, but Yugoda said they needed to be fully honest to grow, and to not let any resentment foster. All Zuko wanted was to regain the love, friendship, and companionship they’d had the past decade. He wasn’t asking for a miracle. He believed Yugoda could help– he just needed Katara to want it, and believe it too. Otherwise, it might be a lost cause. 

Zuko flinched when Katara glared at him, and placed down the cookie. He too had suddenly lost his appetite. He didn’t know why he expected this to go more smoothly. It was obviously going to be a mess, as it was right now. He felt small, and retracted the urge to put his hand on her knee and comfort her. He felt that was the very last thing Katara would want right now. That was  _why_  they were here. 

“Katara…” Zuko began, taking a deep and shaky breath, “Please don’t be angry at Yugoda. She’s only here to help us… if you want to be mad, be mad at me, but she– she’s only being kind to offer to help us,” Zuko asked, leaning into his hand and biting his lip, ready for her to sharply retort. “I’m sorry– I just didn’t want to spend all morning catching her up, and if she’s here to help, she has to know what’s going on to help us,” Zuko explained, glancing over at the old woman, then to his wife. He prayed to the spirits this would do them some good.

* * *

“Then, forgive me,  _Yugoda_ ,” Katara bit, shifting away from Zuko. Her ribcage dug into the sofa’s armrest. “I wasn’t fully aware of the conversations to be had before my arrival. I guess I wrongfully assumed that my  _private_  circumstances and  _personal_  history would be  _mine_  to share.”

She threw a pointed glare at Zuko before setting her tea down and folding her hands in her lap. “But, here— how’s this?”

“I’m sick because this palace is full of people whispering about me,” Katara started, a dangerous, angry note in her voice. “I’m sick because my home has turned into a viper’s nest; my painful history is hissed in the ears of whomever, shared with the full intent of harming me and wounding my family. I’m sick because the one I trust the most, my husband, thought it fit to share things with Yue, with Pakku, with you— all behind my back,” she spat.

“And you know what’s worse?” Katara asked. “ _I_  am blamed for it all. Didn’t want the story of Aliya getting out? Shouldn’t have run around the world like a loose little slut. Didn’t want my history with Tonraq spreading about? Shouldn’t have fallen in love and dreamt about getting married when, for all I knew, I had the freedom to marry for love. Didn’t want my spouse hiding himself in the arms of another?  _Mmm_ …” she mocked the coy smirks of the palace staff. “Too bad, guess you should’ve considered the impact getting fucked by another man would have.”

Katars cut off with a harsh exhale. Her nostrils flared and she fought off tears and she smiled cruelly, lips curved like a cheshire cat. “Is that what you wanted?”

* * *

Zuko looked at her- confused- at some of her sentiments, scowling at the accusation. “I only told Yugoda, the woman we agreed to speak to about the problems in  _our_  marriage!” Zuko shouted. “I didn’t go telling every detail of your entire life’s history! I wouldn’t do that to you!” Zuko cried defensively. “What happened between you and Tonraq has to do with me–  _our_  marriage! I didn’t tell her anything deeper than that! We agreed to speak to her, together!” Zuko shouted crossly. 

He pressed his fingers to his head in frustration, and bit his lip. Zuko was angry and hurt– but also glad she was talking. This was something that was long overdue, maybe if it was off their chests, the loads would be lighter. 

“I would never go behind your back and tell all your business! Pakku and Yue already knew that you had to sleep with Tonraq, Katara! I didn’t go spreading anything! They knew more than I did! I didn’t– and would never go and- and gossip about you! I did no such thing, and would never do any such thing!” Zuko shouted back, frustrated with the insinuations. 

He shook his head, frustrated, “The arms of another…? What the fuck are you talking about, Kat? Yue? Your best friend?” Zuko said with a scoff. “If you think there’s a damn thing going on between the two of us–” Zuko grumbled. “First off, I would never in a million years have an affair, and secondly, Yue would never do that to you. She knows how that feels, and she loves you– mind you, not as much as I do, which leads to how I would never do that to you, either!” Zuko cried. “Yue and I are just friends– it’s not our faults that you don’t come along every time we invite you!” 

Zuko lied back on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt bad for it, though. He shouldn’t have left room for doubt in the first place. And most of all, no one should have blamed her for any of those things. “I… I shouldn’t have… it shouldn’t have– I shouldn’t have left room for doubt, though,” admitted Zuko quietly, “And, none of those things are your fault,” he whispered. “They shouldn’t blame you for any of that. That’s repulsive– and your fucking council is repulsive,” Zuko spat. 

“I hate them. I’ve always hated that fucking council with their big mouths, trying to infringe on your reign every chance they get, and they couldn’t think more lowly of me. They think polar bear dog’s shit is worth more than I am, and they make fucking sure I know it, too. If I greet them in the hall, instead of a courteous bow, as a normal prince and spouse of a queen should expect, they glare at me. And, I don’t even care for the submission, but a wave, or a smile, or a hello would be nice!” Zuko spat, pursing his lips. 

“And, what happened with Tonraq– the history, all of it, the dreams of marriage, the love saga…” Zuko growled, “That’s none of the council’s– or the public’s– business, but I feel as though it’s mine! I’m your husband! I’m not some councilman! Not did you just keep it from me- you lied to me! For ten years you had me believing you had no serious relationship before you met me! I asked you, and you told me no, you’d never been in love, meanwhile, I’d severed the true love fairytale romance of you and your soulmate, Tonraq!” Zuko snapped. “You went to sleep with him, and act like it was another casual thing until I hear through the grapevine that he was formerly the love of your life. You knew about me and Jin, and I told you about Mai, I told you everything!” Zuko cried. “I don’t know why you didn’t afford me the same disclosure I granted you!”

* * *

Katara nearly snarled. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, Zuko?! Excuse me for not laying out my entire life story on our wedding night! Did you honestly want to hear about the man I was going to marry, the man I  _would’ve_ married if, six months prior to your arrival, I hadn’t been told I was fucking pawn in a peace treaty?” She slapped her hands down on the sofa, body jerking towards him and pure malice flashing in her eyes. “I was trying to give our marriage the best chance it had, something you never—“

“ _Ehem_.”

There was a quiet, patient sound to Katara’s left. Yugoda. The old woman’s eyes were narrowed, however, they held an understanding kindness that irritated Katara more than outrage would have.

She hiss through bared teeth and sank back against the sofa. “What?”

“This is good,” Yugoda said. “It may not look it, but it’s good. You’re talking, something neither of you have done in how long? Not with any conviction any way.”

Katara laughed. “Oh, I’m sure it’s great. This is all great,” she growled, jabbing her chin at Zuko. “I love being personally attacked by my spouse over decisions I made to keep the entire goddamn world at p—“

“Ah ah ah,” Yugoda interrupted her. Again. Tutting her tongue like a school teacher. Katara was in verge of sending the woman to the dungeons, but Yugoda spoke before she had the chance. “The yelling, no. The talking, the candid emotion and expression, yes. Zuko, Katara: both of you need to see this as an opportunity. Zuko, I feel as though you view this experience as your last effort; and Katara, you’re here expecting to be punished.”

“Well, everyone clearly believes I deserve it,” Katara scoffed.

“No. No, we don’t, Katara.” Yugoda shook her head, still wearing a patient smile. “My intent is to help you. I want you both to have the chance to express what you feel, and we’ll see what blooms from that.” The old woman retrieved Katara’s tea, holding it out until the Chieftess took it, looking puzzled. “Take a sip, Katara. There’s nothing like a hot cup of calming tea, trust me. And when you’re finished, go back to what you said before.”

Katara looked down at the amber drink, finally obeying with a sour scowl. “Go back to what?”

“You said something about giving your marriage the best chance,” Yugoda prompted. “Tell Zuko—  _nicely_ — what you meant.”

“Well, there’s the obvious issue of consummation on a wedding night. I don’t see how I was supposed to convince him—“

Yugoda wagged a finger. “Not me. Tell  _him_.”

Katara took a short, sharp breath through her nose. Her patience was wearing thin for all this. Her defenses were up. She wanted to attack, tear Zuko apart; it’s what she would do if they were on the battlefield and her heart was thundering this way. Katara looked at her tea again, then took another sip. She focused on the warmth spreading in her belly before she spoke, aiming for gentleness.

“I didn’t want to bring up something that ended six months prior,” Katara said, forcing herself to look at her husband. Her voice was still strained, but she took it as a victory that she was not shouting. “As soon as my father told me I’d be marrying a Prince from the Fire Nation, I broke things off with Tonraq. It wasn’t fair, not to him, and  _not to you.”_

* * *

Zuko was ready to fire back, anger in his chest at the words she spewed at him furiously. Like he wasn’t a pawn, too? He was the one sent here– all alone. They were both pawns. He was sent here under the notion he was no more than the princess’ sex toy to give her waterbending babies, while she had other men or women on the side– rather, he was the side. That was the expectation, the direction, his uncle expected that, and sent him here to live that way in a tundra, alone anyway. He was lucky that wound up far from the case, but nonetheless, his uncle threw him away to be used. 

He wanted to scream that he didn’t expect it on their wedding night, but if in some time in the ten years following it came out, it would have been nice. Worse, it hurt the most that she didn’t explain the depth of their relationship before she went off to make babies with the man. Instead, Zuko had to hear it through a third party, or she never would have told him at all. That tore him up– didn’t she see that? He wanted to shout this all, but Yugoda quieted them both, and Zuko’s hands were shaking with nerves, anger, or both. The pent up frustration was straining him, and he bit down on his lip to keep quiet to his sharp tongue. 

Yugoda had Katara calmly explain her point of view to him, and Zuko calmed down, despite the anger in her eyes that he could feel. He was furious too, but he steadied himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Zuko didn’t want to say something he’d regret– no matter how angry he was or how hurt, he didn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to see her hurt. He hoped she knew that, deep down. He’d always have her best interest at heart, even in the hardest or toughest of times.

“I understand that, Kat,” Zuko spoke, looking at Yugoda, but the woman shook her head with a smirk, and Zuko turned back to his wife with a shaking breath. “I’m not upset that you didn’t tell me the truth on our wedding night. We were strangers. What hurts me is that in the ten years of our marriage, you never told me… and what really, really hurts me is that you knew you were going off with Tonraq to have sex with him, and make a baby with him, and you still just brushed it off as a fling… you never explained to me the depth of this relationship, let alone marriage, and just how much you loved him, and how he still loved you, but that was obvious,” Zuko said, his voice cracking as he went along. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat as he then tapped the arm of the chair. 

“That’s what upset me– what  _upsets_  me. I feel hurt that you didn’t tell me in all the years we’ve been together. I feel like you don’t trust me, and I can’t stop thinking about what you said to Tonraq, about me just being a treaty spouse.”

* * *

“How am I supposed to bring that up, Zuko? Would you like to have been told the same day I said I love you?” Katara asked. “Oh, hey, darling, I really, truly love you, but there’s this man in the Navy that I would’ve married if it weren’t for you and sometimes I have to work with him,” she mocked. “I’m sure that would’ve gone over _really well!_ Especially if you’d known about him when we all left for the war together. You totally would’ve—”

“Katara,” Yugoda warned. 

She snapped, “Are you going to interrupt me all day? I am Chief in this land, need I remind you.”  

“In this room, you are Katara,” the old woman said, “Nothing more. You’re not a wife. You’re not a mother. You’re not a leader. You’re  _you.”_

“Those things _make up_ me.” 

“Yes, but they also impact how you act, how you speak, what you share, and what you keep secret,” Yugoda said. “Forget them for now, and tell Zuko, calmly, you feel.” 

_Calmly_. Katara’s grip on the tea cup tightened; all of her tightened. Her back began to cramp from the tension in it and her head ached. Katara frowned, feeling pain set in behind her eyes. She was going to cry. 

She hated this, feeling so vulnerable. Too much of her was exposed, like a tiger seal cub showing its soft underbelly, unknowingly becoming prey. And she didn’t trust Zuko not to lash at the delicate flesh. Katara thought about running. Far away. Not just from this room or the palace; to a different land. She might’ve, had Yugoda not prompted her again. 

Katara’s gaze focused on the tea in her lap. 

“First of all, I’m not sure how you wanted to be told,” she murmured. Her tongue swiped across her lips. “And I couldn’t find a way— not that I ever really thought about it— to bring it up and tell you that I used to love another man. It would’ve wrecked the security you had.” 

Katara glanced at Zuko, just briefly, a sigh escaping through her nose before she went on. “Secondly, I didn’t love Tonraq when we got married. You asked me if I loved someone and I didn’t; I didn’t lie.” 

“I guess, by omission, sure, but—” She snorted, her face contorting with a little, frustrated scowl. 

“It would’ve been so awkward, Zuko!” Her voice rose with her insistence. “I didn’t want to upset you or give you reasons to feel insecure when I didn’t love him anymore. I mean, sure, there were things I missed about Tonraq and times that I missed him, but it was over. And as time went on, I fell so in love  _with you.”_

* * *

Zuko didn’t know Tonraq had been there those months she went off to war. That revelation only hurt Zuko worse, knowing she kept that from him and then went off alone with the man. Zuko looked down at his hands, feeling further betrayed and hurt by this, and he shook her head at some of the things she spoke. 

“It wouldn’t have wrecked the security I had, Katara… I can understand you loved a man before you knew me, especially as the years went on and we were so secure in our lives together,” Zuko replied quietly. “I’m hurt that you said nothing when you went away alone with him… I had no idea he was even there. A head’s up, simply, would have made me feel better. I’d feel like you trusted me, and trusted me to know I would trust you to be with Tonraq alone like that despite the past,” Zuko explained. “But, you didn’t then, and you don’t now, and that’s why it hurts.”

Zuko took a deep breath. “I just– I feel like it was relevant, then. It was relevant when you went off to war, and it was certainly relevant when you went off to have a baby with him,” Zuko told her, tears forming in his eyes. “You know that I loved Jin before I met you, and that’s all dead and gone now, and things were fine. But, how could you keep that from me when you had to go to have sex with Tonraq- alone- weeks on end? I feel like that’s information I deserve to be privy to as your husband, but I wasn’t,” Zuko stated, wiping at the tear that flew free off his unscarred cheek. 

“I feel untrusted, and a little betrayed, knowing you kept this from me, Kat. But, I also feel guilty. I feel so guilty because I must’ve made you feel that way. I must be the reason that you didn’t trust me with this information, and I’m sorry because I shouldn’t have left you any room for doubt.”


	53. Chapter 53

“Went off  _alone with him?_  There were thirty-thousand men with us, Zuko.” She laughed aloud, mocking and cruel. “I cannot believe you. You’re implying that  _a war_ was some kind of romantic get away for us, like I had some other intention aside from utilizing my full military prowess and treating Tonraq, a Navy captain, as anything more than a Navy captain.”

“And, still— with the  _‘weeks,_ ’” Katara growled. Her fingers ran into her hair with agitation, creating snarls and tangles.  _“’Weeks on end.’_  You keep saying that and it’s not true! You’re exaggerating everything to make yourself look better, but if you knew about my history with Tonraq, you would’ve been worse!” she shouted. 

“Would you have let me choose him for this? If you’d known?” Katara asked, almost desperate and most certainly angry. “I don’t think you would’ve. Or, you’d make me feel so guilty that I’d end up with a stranger anyway. You make me shoulder every burden, including your self-esteem iss—” 

 _“Katara,”_ Yugoda cut her off. She immediately quieted, pressing her lips together in shame as tears sprang up. “You’re upset and hurt, which is warranted, but your language is becoming accusatory.” 

 _“Good!_  I’m accusing him! I—” 

“Katara.” 

Her blue eyes challenged Yugoda, but after a beat, Katara caved. She chewed her lip and looked down, ignoring the woman’s perceptive stare. Yugoda kept trying however, patient and understanding. 

“Katara… look at me for a moment, just a moment.” 

Looking at her tea seemed like a better option. Katara glared at the drink, pouting like a child, but Yugoda waited, refusing to speak until Katara pulled her gaze up obediently. 

“You wear anger like cloak. You cling to it,” Yugoda said. “You lash out, so whatever you feel is threatening you no longer has a chance. You behave like a lone wolf, and, forgive me if I’m too bold, but I believe this is a pattern that extends beyond your marriage.” 

Katara gave Yugoda a blank stare.

“Let’s talk about your mother’s death. You were eight. Who did you lean on for support?” 

“They leaned on me,” Katara answered. “Someone had to hold the family together. La knows my dad and brother weren’t going to talk about  _feelings—_ big, bad men of the Water Tribe.” 

Yugoda pursed her lips, pressing on, “And, then your brother died when you were…” 

“Sixteen. I was taken captive by some man with sideburns, turned into his little pet. Sokka,  _um…_ he traded his life for mine. He lied, somehow made the man believe he was the waterbender, not me, and then…” Her eyes fell to her lap; Katara ground her teeth. When she spoke again, her voice was cold, hard. “He was shipped off to the Boiling Rock where they probably killed him. I was raped until I couldn’t stand and my bleeding body was dumped in the woods.” 

“But you fought death and you won. You made it home. You had your father to help you.” If her tone was off-putting, Yugoda didn’t show it. She simply took the tea pot and refilled Katara’s cup, a kind, thoughtful gesture that unexpectedly cracked her icy walls.

“I… well, I- I had to wait until Aliya was born,” Katara said, “but I immediately stepped into the my role as the heir after she was adopted. I had… certain duties, responsibilities… mourning my losses wasn’t among them.”

“You’ve never mourned them _. Any of them;_  not Kya or Sokka, not Aliya or Tonraq. And, not your father. Zuko told me you shut him out for a month after Hakoda died.” 

Katara grimaced. “So?” 

“So… it’s a pattern, Katara. You act like a lone wolf. You expect there to be no one behind you. You count on being alone. You refuse to trust your pack, and you take on every role within the pack even though you don’t have to.” Yugoda smiled softly, nodding towards Zuko. “There’s no mistaking that you are the alpha, Katara, but every alpha has its mate, andZuko is yours.” 

“But,” Yugoda’s eyes slid away from Katara, “Zuko… for whatever reason, your wife can’t see this, and I believe it’s because you rely so greatly on her for your sense of self-worth. She doesn’t feel safe coming to you with the heavy things.” 

* * *

 

Zuko inhaled sharply at the painful things Katara shouted at him. He quieted, then. He was left with unrelenting doubt. Zuko felt like a horrible husband then, and resolved that coming to Yugoda wasn’t good— or maybe this meant it was. He needed to be candidly slapped with the truth, even though it was incredibly painful. Zuko had tried so hard to help her through this, he didn’t know she felt like she had to carry everything. He never wanted her to carry it all.

Zuko felt selfish and unsupportive. All he wanted was to be there for her to lean on, and suddenly whatever he felt in this situation he didn’t feel mattered at all, and he didn’t care at all for any of his effected feelings on this. Tears fell silently from his good eye, and Zuko embarrassingly shoved them away with the palm of his hand, averting his gaze in shame as he simply listened.

“I don’t mean to,” whispered Zuko apologetically. “I never wanted that,” he stated. “I… until recently… I had my position on the council, and I felt I contributed, and I mattered, but once that was stripped from me, I guess I felt smaller then too— the Tribe looks at me like I’m worthless, and I guess I do worry too much I am. The last thing I ever, ever wanted was to make that Katara’s concern in the least. That’s a me issue, and I know it,” Zuko stated, but he turned to Katara for something else.

“I never knew Sokka was taken to the Boiling Rock,” Zuko whispered, shaking his head earnestly, his gaze urgent, but tears were in it that he struggled to withhold. “Kat… they don’t execute at the Boiling Rock. You only die by trying to escape— I didn’t know… I’m not saying it’s a given, but fuck, there’s a chance— Kat, there’s a chance your brother is  ** _alive_**.”

* * *

Katara rolled her eyes. “Oh,  _don’t._  I don’t need a fucking mind game on top of everything else,” she snarled. “The terms of the treaty dictated that all prisoners of war be released. My brother wasn’t among the men who came home and, as such, he was presumed dead. We’ve mourned. We’ve moved on.” 

She set her tea cup down and glared across the table at Yugoda. “Are we done for the day? Or do you have more psychoanalyzing you’d like to do?” 

* * *

Zuko looked at her in shock. “Why would you ever think I would play games with something like that?” Zuko asked in hurt, shaking his head. This was a terrible idea. Zuko regretted coming here to Yugoda. Not that it was the woman’s fault- she was very kind to try to help.

Zuko leaned into his hand- frustrated- as Katara snapped at the old woman. He was scared even more so now that he had lost his wife for good. She had so much resentment for him, and Zuko feared it was irreversible. He was scared to know how long she harbored it. It put his stomach into knots, and he felt even more unbearable.

“Whatever you want, Kat… I’m sorry, Yugoda… I’m sorry I bothered you.”

* * *

“It’s no problem, Prince Zuko.” Yugoda stood as they did, bowing respectfully. “I am more than happy to help, for as long as you both need… and this will take some time, despite the progress you’ve made today. Katara… will you join us again tomorrow? Same time?” 

The Chieftess grit her teeth for moment, but conceded. “Fine. Whatever helps.” 

Katara skirted around Yugoda and Zuko both after that, making a bee line from the guest quarters to her office. She had a pile of work to get through, a meeting with her Council, and an appointment with the palace doctor to check her pregnancy’s progress. Katara knew Zuko would follow her here, though, then hover around for every other hour. 

She didn’t want to talk. She was… inexplicably angry. Deep down, Katara knew the anger was a defense, a shield. She felt exposed and open; her heart was flayed and raw. Still— she wasn’t going to be forced into a conversation she didn’t want to have. Not yet. 

Katara grabbed a stack of documents to read over and darted out of her office. Druk’s stables were as good as any place to hide, plus… he’d keep visitors away.

* * *

Zuko sat a moment, letting the evening sink in. His heart felt jittery in his chest and his hands were left shaking like a coin on railway. He looked up at Yugoda, only then realizing his linger. “Sorry,” mumbles Zuko, shaking his head to pull himself out of his daze.

“You’re quite all right, Prince Zuko, take your time. If you need to talk to me more on your own, I’m here,” she offered with a patient smile.

Zuko glanced behind himself, concerned. “I don’t know. It feels… sneaky without Katara,” Zuko explained.

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” the old woman said with a shrug, “I’m here to help you both heal.”

Zuko took a deep breath, and decided he would confide in the woman. He somehow wound up on the details of his past, his childhood, his uncle, his mom, his father, his sister, his cousin, his cousin’s son’s death, then Katara, then he felt the need to stop. Talking about the current issue without Katara there felt like a betrayal of their- apparently nonexistent, trust.

It felt good to get what he did out, though. A weight lifted from his shoulders, though he spoke nothing his wife didn’t already know. Most of it his uncle and cousin knew too, but to talk about it without feeling burdensome felt relieving. Yugoda was good at what she did. Somehow, she was able to take away the usual guilt Zuko carried when bothering people, even those he loved, with his troubles.

When he checked the time, it was almost time for Katara’s appointment, and Zuko dismissed himself with a humble thank you. He peaked his head in the familiar door, “hi,” whispered Zuko, tapping his fingers on the wall and keeping his head down. “…Is it okay if I come in for the checkup?”

* * *

Katara was more than surprised to hear Zuko peeking through the infirmary door. The physician had just begun with her hands over Katara’s bare stomach, glowing a faint blue. She pushed the woman’s hands away and sat up, pulling her tunic closed and clutching it against her check.

“Sure, come in,” she called. Katara swung her legs over the table’s edge and smiled as her husband walked in, though a hint of wariness lingered in her blue eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d want to be here for it,” she said. “Otherwise, I would’ve told you or invited you along… I know you came to all the others, but this pregnancy’s…  _different_.” Katara averted her gaze with shame. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay. I’d be happy to have you. I’m just a little shocked.”

* * *

Zuko shook his head, walking over to his wife and putting his hands on her shoulders affectionately. His eyes were sad and held defeat in them and brokenness. Katara’s words still lingered in his mind, and guilt ebbed at his chest, but he loved her— and he’d be there. If he wasn’t the best husband to her, that didn’t mean he couldn’t start now. He could get better- now- be a better husband.

“The circumstances may be, but I’m still going to be this baby’s dad, aren’t I? If this baby’s going to be calling me ‘papa’, too- and if my wife is going to be giving birth, I’d like to be here for it,” whispered Zuko, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She didn’t even know he loved her. If he couldn’t convey that, then of course he wasn’t a very good husband at all. Zuko worried, too, if he was a good father. Did the kids know how much he loved them? Katara didn’t feel like he loved her, or she could go to him, and that was the last thing he wanted for her. She deserved a husband she could trust and confide in, not the whiny thing he’d become. Maybe Yugoda could help him better himself of it— so he could be a better man for himself, and in turn, a better husband to his wife. Zuko just prayed the last ten years she hadn’t been feeling this way— he worried it all might’ve been farce to her as it was now. But, all he could fret over at this point was the future.

* * *

“Oh. Okay.” She wasn’t sure if she should smile or not. A part of her was happy to have Zuko’s involvement. Another was wary of him. 

The baby’s parentage made Katara feel like she couldn’t be excited, not that she was. Not yet. But, eventually— she knew the feelings, the bond, would come; it did with Aliya, despite those  _circumstances._ She’d have to temper it even more this time… so Zuko wouldn’t be hurt or… threatened. 

“I—” Katara bit her lip. She tried to find a way to word her thoughts; if sharing was supposed to be their new thing, Katara figured she should try. But, the words didn’t come easy and she still didn’t feel safe admitting how afraid she was that she wouldn’t love this baby… and how much more she feared  _she would._

She released her lip and sighed. “I just thought you’d stay away, until he or she’s born, at least. I don’t know. I guess I expected to be alone. So,thank you.” 

Katara squeezed Zuko’s forearm, then shifted back on the table, thinking briefly of what Yugoda had said. Did she always operate alone? Always plan on it? She couldn’t necessarily say it was a bad thing; she was a leader. She couldn’t guide her nation if she was relying on the support and strength of others. 

The doctor’s cool hands flattened on Katara’s belly, startling her from her thoughts. She retracted her own from Zuko’s grasp and folded them on her chest, eyes studying the ceiling with nervous anticipation. Aside from a few approving noises made by the doctor, the infirmary was quiet. Katara’s gaze flicked from the wood above her to Zuko’s patient gold. 

“Were you going to tell me about the Council?” she asked. “I mean, I— I know I was gone for a week, but no one mentioned you leaving your position… and I thought I’d be given some hint. They— you— _all of you_ work for me, after all.” 

* * *

Zuko shook his head, shocked at Katara’s expectation of him. “Of course I’ll be here… I was here for the last four, I’ll be here for number five,” Zuko said with a small laugh, trying to keep things light, but his stomach was still swimming from the meeting with Yugoda. He felt on edge now— how was it that Tonraq could make their entire marriage go to shit? Months ago, and for the past prior ten years, things were great. Now, they were all to hell.

Even if he was a bad husband, he hoped he was a good dad at least. He hoped Katara thought so, too. He hoped, even if she didn’t trust him with her heart, she trusted him with their children’s. “I promise I’ll love the baby the same, Kat,” Zuko whispered. “I swear, I’ll be a  _good_  father.”

The doctor pulled their attention away, and gave Zuko the chance to recollect himself. The question seemed heavier, but in all honestly, it was another weight, but it was the least of his problems right now.

“Right,” Zuko mumbled, shaking his head. “They… they said with the treaty gone… I… they didn’t have to deal with me and my lackluster performance any longer, so they voted me out. They put a Water Tribe man in- won’t tell me who,” Zuko said with a groan in irritation. “I don’t see how a Water Tribe man is going to ambassador fairly on behalf of the Fire Nation, but no one cared about that. They said it was too dangerous… I was a poor fit, a figurehead,” Zuko stated- one of his most dreaded terms.

“I don’t know. They don’t think I’m doing a good enough job I suppose, but there are a lot of roles I have myself wondering if I’ve done a good enough job in lately,” Zuko said with a shrug. “You know, Kat, the council… well, they hate us. They saw a chance to evict me, and they flew with it and the loophole. You’ve been running around like crazy busy, and… we weren’t talking… and I don’t know. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner- when it happened.”

* * *

Katara grit her teeth. “So, they’ve gone on some kind of power trip,” she hissed. The doctor moved from Katara’s side to the end of the table, lifting the sheet that protected her modesty up to her knees. Katara jumped at the cold hands on her thighs, then made herself obey the command to relax and breathe.

Still, a curse slipped free. _“Fuck._ ” Lucky for the physician, her mood was directed more towards the Council. “The fucking cows. If they think they’ve somehow won my submission because I submitted to Tonraq in bed, I swear to La—” 

She pressed her lips together as the doctor removed her hands. The sheet was lowered over Katara’s legs again and the doctor smiled. “Everything looks good,” she said. “You look healthy, and more importantly, the pregnancy seems to be healthy. You’re about three weeks along, as you thought… still early for a formal announcement, but I don’t think you’re at any risk of losing it. See you in about six weeks?”

Katara nodded her thanks and the woman excused herself, allowing Katara the privacy to redress. She sat up on the table again, swinging her legs over, and put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. 

“I’ll fix it, Zuko. I promise.” She smiled tightly, squeezed his muscle. Her fingers drifted towards his neck, brushing his jawline, then cupping his chin. Katara brushed her thumb over Zuko’s lips.  

“I know you found fulfillment in the role, and I’ll make sure you get it back,” she said softly. “The Council’s become bold, but they’re not above reproach and they’re certainly not above me.”

* * *

Zuko instinctively leaned into his wife’s touch, craving more, and wanting to return her affections. He wanted, more than anything, for Katara to know, trust, and believe when he said he loved her. He wanted her to know unspokenly, like he would have sworn she did, up and down, before. Now, he felt like a burden of a deadweight husband whose slack she had to pick up. He wanted her to feel secure in their marriage–  _he **loved** her_. How could she doubt that? How could he have gone so wrong. 

Zuko was relieved to hear Katara say that she’d get his role back, and hoped it wasn’t bothersome. The only bothersome thing he could figure was that in which she had with the council. Their usurption of him was an act against her as well. Zuko knew that. He also knew his wife well enough to know that nothing angered her more than a power play by the very people meant to serve under and respect her for their nation. 

“Thank you, Kat,” whispered Zuko, leaning his forehead against hers, and letting his eyes flutter shut. His hand flattened over her belly, though nothing showed yet. He knew from their babies before that the little one was there– just starting to grow. The new life still brought a smile to Zuko’s face, despite the circumstances. Zuko hesitated a moment, but then leaned in and gently kissed Katara’s lips, moving one hand to the small of her back, and the other used his fingers to gently coax her chin towards him. 

 


	54. Chapter 54

Katara was surprised by the kiss, but no less receptive. She’d spent weeks missing Zuko terribly, longing for his touch and the subtle intimacy between them. No one else was so tender. No one else could make her heart jump into her throat with a simple graze along her chin or a soft, gentle kiss. 

She moved her hand from his chin into his hair, brought the other up to caress his chest and cup his neck. Eventually, her fingers linked in his raven locks, and Katara held him tighter. She spread her knees apart, letting Zuko move in closer, inviting him to deepen the embrace. 

It was hard not to sigh against his lips. It was even harder not to tremble as his fingertips drew shapes on her belly and her back. She was starved for him, for this. She tugged his hair and let his tongue slip past lips, then Katara gave up trying to hide how affected she was by him. 

_“Zuko…”_  She broke away for just a second, just to breathe his name. Her eyes fluttered shut as she bumped her nose against his. Her hands relinquished his hair, skimming down the front of him to hold his waist. 

She wanted him, but she didn’t know how to say it. Her skin was alight. Her body was painfully aware of how much she needed him. Her tunic was still untied and her bindings were nothing but a wadded pile on the floor. Katara shrugged a shoulder. The tunic slipped down her elbows, leaving nearly all of her exposed. She looked up at him, then, feeling shy, feeling slightly afraid.  

“Zuko,” she said again. Her voice trembled. Katara quieted to a whisper. “I love you. No matter what. And,  _I miss you._  So much… please.” 

* * *

Zuko was deeply relieved when Katara returned the kiss as eagerly as he initiated it, but followed the same tender pattern he’d instilled. Her lips were warm, and her mouth tasted of coffee. Zuko wanted her. He’d longed to be touched by her, and held by her, and to hold her in turn, and let her know how much he really, truly, unadulteratedly, and selflessly loved her. He couldn’t bear to think she went through a single day and didn’t know. If anyone deserved to feel how loved they were, it was Katara.

Zuko gladly came in close to her, wrapping his arms around her as they brushed their noses, and some of the weight lifted off his shoulders, despite the heavy words that weighed him down from earlier in the day. 

When she said she still loved him, no matter what: unconditionally, and that she missed him, Zuko swore he’d melt into putty in her hands right then. These were things for the past ten years he bet his life on, and didn’t take for granted, but maybe took at too much ease. He hoped she had too– he hoped this rough patch was the only skip of beat of doubt. Even that was far too long and much of it. He longed to rectify it, and to help ease her pain, and fix any lingering ache he might have caused. All he ever wanted was for his family to be healthy, safe, and happy. 

“La, Kat, I love you too. I need you to know that,” Zuko stressed, putting his forehead against hers with his eyes fluttered closed desperately. “There is nothing on this earth more important to me than ensuring my family… my children, and my wife, know how deeply I love them– no matter what,” Zuko promised. “I need you to always trust that I love you- and I’m here for you, through anything… thick and thin… better or worse,” Zuko whispered, then trailing down her face with affectionate kisses. “Agni, I love you…” Zuko murmured, his lips coming down her neck as his hand pushed at the sleeve she’d already shifted off her shoulder. “I’ve missed you like all  ** _hell_**.”

* * *

“I love you, too,” she murmured, tilting her head. “I love you so much. So—” Her breath caught in her throat, her words dying with a soft moan. Zuko had made his way down her neck, had his lips and tongue tracing her collarbone. 

With his help, Katara freed her arms of her tunic. She wrapped them around Zuko’s neck when the fabric pooled on the infirmary’s bed. Their lips found each other’s again; Katara kissed him soft and slow, taking her fill of the sugar on his tongue and taste of tea on his breath. She drank him in, the soft moans he made when she pulled his hair, the eager pants when she started undoing his belt and shirt. 

Katara pushed his tunic to the floor. Her fingers traced up his arms and her eyes followed, memorizing the path of goose flesh she left on his shoulders, chest, and stomach. Katara hooked her ankles behind him, pulling Zuko’s hips flush to hers. Her lips grazed from his to his jaw, then chased his pulse down his neck. 

She kissed his sternum, nuzzled his collarbone, bit his nipple than licked the assault away. A gasp of her name seemed trapped in Zuko’s throat. His fingers dug into her sides. Katara met his gaze with a flirty smile, warming at the perfect mix of lust and love in his golden eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Katara whispered, twisting a hand in his hair. The other flattened on his chest, over the scare that marked him. “ _So_  beautiful… and you’re mine.” 

* * *

Zuko had yearned for a simple touch for weeks, and he was relieved to be granted that and then some. He felt wanted, and Agni knew he wanted her. She was beautiful, inside and out. Zuko never ceased to be amazed, even after all their years together, at how amazing she really was. Katara was always so brave, despite the odds, and she was the strongest person he knew, and she was so wise, but still found room in her brevity for kindness and caring for others. He didn’t know how she balanced it all, and he admired her for it. 

Zuko’s eyes were coated with lust, but behind that and his hooded lids, was unbridled, unconditional, and unwavering, pure love for the woman below him. His hair was raised on his skin at her touch, and all he wanted was to hold her close, and pin her to that bed, and they could hide away in it for the rest of the day. Zuko smiled, laughing with a warm blush, his heart lifting from its ache for the first time in weeks. 

Zuko brushed his hand over Katara’s cheek, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I am yours, and you are mine from this day to the end of my days,” whispered Zuko, quoting words from their wedding ceremony all those years ago. Zuko laughed, and leaned in to steal her lips once more. “I’m beautiful… please,” teased Zuko, “Look at you?” Zuko spoke, kissing her again and speaking in between them as his hands coasted over her bare body in admiration. “You’re  _gorgeous_ ,” Zuko said, smiling his lopsided grin against her lips as his hand kneaded over her breast, then down her skin, sliding his fingers between her legs. 

“Spirits, do I love you,” muttered Zuko with a moan of her name, speaking still between kisses and gasps for breath as his fingers slid inside her with purpose. “I  _want_  you, Kat– you and  _only_  you.” 

* * *

Katara broke away from their kiss, brow furrowed. His words sank into her like a knife, sending a jolt of tension through her. 

I want you. _Only you. Only you_. 

“What do you—?” She shook her head, tried to shake off the sudden, unwanted thought that was this all a bad idea. But, whether Zuko meant it or not, there was a cruel insinuation in his words and it make her heart thud in her chest.

She never wanted Tonraq. She only ever wanted him. But no matter what she said or did, no matter how she acted, Katara felt like Zuko was hellbent in his distrust of her.

“Stop,” Katara whispered, turning her face away from him. Maybe she said it too quietly. Maybe he thought she wanted something different. His lips moved down her neck and his fingers slid up to play at her clit. 

At any other time, Katara would’ve moaned, but shame was a hot, relentless force. She felt sick. She wanted to vomit. This time, when she spoke, she was louder and firmer. She pushed on his chest, making him listen. “Zuko, stop.  _Please.”_  

* * *

“Of– of course,” Zuko spoke, taken off guard by her sudden change of mood. Zuko instantly pulled back, taking his hands away from her, stepping back while wearing a frown and eyes of concern. “Katara, are you all right?” asked Zuko, shaking his head. “What’s wrong?” he spoke, “I– did I hurt you? Or… did you just change your mind?” Zuko whispered, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t know what he did wrong, but he wanted to fix it. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore. That was the dead last thing he ever wanted to do. Zuko chewed his lip, and picked up his tunic, assuming they were done for now. He grabbed Katara’s as well, and handed it to her quietly.

He’d managed to mess something up again, only this time, he was too dumb to gather what it was in particular that made her want to stop in the middle of everything. He was hoping this would be a good step– thought that even though his wife’s words in there had deeply wounded him, it was helping. He knew they had ways to go yet, but he thought it was starting, the healing. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her, and didn’t care what they’d do, but clearly, he’d made a mockery of that. It could have been something else bothering her- but that didn’t explain why she’d make such a sudden stop when moments before she’d been debatably more eager than he was.

Katara was hurt, Zuko could read that in her eyes. He hated seeing her hurt, especially when he knew he did it. It was bad enough all on its own. He just wanted to fix it, take it away, and see her eyes alight again, matching her smile- a real smile. She used to smile like that all the time, and only within the past few months had it changed. At least around him. He was supposed to be a safe place for her, a place of comfort. He wanted to be. He knew he’d never be perfect, but he wanted to give her all he could. He wanted to be a good husband for her. All Zuko ever wanted for Katara was health, happiness, and love.

Zuko sighed, buttoning his tunic as his mind raced amidst the silence. “Sorry… if I said or did something… I didn’t mean to hurt you… I– if you want me to go away, I- I will, but I meant what I said, Kat. I miss you. I- do you want to talk about it? Are you… are you okay? You can talk to me- tell me what’s wrong, whether it’s something I did, or something else entirely… I’m here, okay?”

* * *

“No, I’m— I’m alright. I—” Katara looked at the floor as Zuko redressed, clutching her own tunic to her chest. She felt… skittish. She wanted him to leave. He knew too much about her and saw too much in her eyes; if she tried to brush it off, he’d only push the issue. 

Gathering her courage with a breath, Katara slipped off the small bed and pulled her tunic up around her shoulders. She tied the belt at her waist, finally meeting Zuko’s earnest gaze. 

“I’m… not physically hurt,” she admitted. “You didn’t do anything to hurt me, but… it’s what you said… about only wanting me.” Katara pursed her lips together, blinking away the sting in her eyes. “I hope you know I didn’t want Tonraq, Zuko. I don’t think about him when we’re together.” 

* * *

Zuko watched her, listening attentively, his head tilted in concern. He shook his head at her words, letting out a deep breath. Truly- that was not what he meant in the least. Zuko stepped closer to Katara, gently taking her wrist in his hand, his thumb stroking the back affectionately and soothingly. 

“I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, Kat,” Zuko explained. “We always say that when we’re together… I mean, of course I meant it, but I just was saying it as another way of telling you how much I love you, and how special you are to me,” he tried to explain. “Really, Tonraq, or worrying about him, or anything like that was the furthest thing from my mind. I had a beautiful, naked woman under me,” he said with a small laugh. 

“I know you weren’t thinking about him, I promise,” Zuko told her, hoping she’d trust him. “I’m sorry it came out like that, Kat. I didn’t mean… a slight or anything by it,” he told her. “I know you didn’t want him, Kat. The council all but put a knife to your throat,” Zuko agreed, then huffing, “They did the same thing when they removed me,” he grumbled, holding disdain for the council. He shook his head, not meaning to digress, “I didn’t mean it, Kat, not like that. I meant that you’re all I want, but… that’s all I meant,” he said with a tender, small chuckle. “Promise.”

* * *

“I know. I know you didn’t,” Katara said, looking away as a bright, embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. “I… honestly feel a little silly now, but—”

She shrugged, deflecting the conversation. Katara gathered her pants and bindings and began folding the items, chewing the inside of her cheek as she did. Regret over leaving Yugoda’s session stewed in her belly. She might not fear opening up so much if she had guidance from a third party. 

But, she had to try, didn’t she? Katara knew she couldn’t leave Zuko guessing constantly at what she was thinking or hiding. It wouldn’t instill trust in their relationship if she did. 

Swallowing, she turned around to face him, her expression showing apprehension and worry. Her hands fidgeted with her tunic. 

“Things have been… tense between us, you know? Regardless of how stupid I was to get upset over the comment, I think it shows that I’m not ready for intimacy,” Katara said. “I think… I don’t know. I think it’d be better, _healthier,_  if we waited, if we were stable.”

She looked up at Zuko with watery eyes, wishing she had better words to explain it. “I just… I feel like I’d be searching for something in the moment, something you can’t provide. I don’t want raging pregnancy hormones to be the reason we have sex or– or this,  _um…_  this feeling of emptiness. That’s not fair to either of us.“

* * *

Zuko was saddened by the statement, but he knew it was true. He sighed, and nodded, putting a gentle hand on his wife’s forearm and he nodded. “You’re right- you’re right,” agreed Zuko, stroking Katara’s arm with absentminded affection. “It probably would’ve complicated things, and we don’t need that, not at all,” Zuko agreed, giving her arm a tender squeeze.

“I do miss you, Katara,” Zuko added, “And, of course, I love you,” he reiterated. “Katara, I’m going to take Kya into town for that show the theater is putting on tonight. She’s been begging me to take her for two weeks, since her tutor told her about it,” Zuko said with a laugh. “None of the others have any desire to go, but Kya swears it’s going to be the next Ember Island Players. I told her that I hope they can do better than that, and that’s not setting the bar very high,” jested Zuko, sliding his hand down her arm to grab her own.

“I would love for you to come with us, and I know Kya would be thrilled,” Zuko invited, squeezing her hand. “If you’re not too busy, and you want to, of course… but I’d love to have your company,” Zuko whispered, his thumb tracing over her skin. 

* * *

Katara nodded with Zuko’s invitation. “Okay… yeah, that’d be great. It’ll do some good for Kya to see her parents happy,” she said, eyes darting away, “even if it’s a little superficial right now.” 

Her attention landed on her feet. They were bare and cold. Her toes curled as Katara shifted uncomfortably; her heels bounced against the floor. “I am sorry,” Katara murmured, still staring at the floor. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t share everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about Aliya or Tonraq,” she said. Katara forced her gaze up. “I wish I could fix it over night, but I can’t. I can’t heal you and I can’t…” She shook her head slightly. “I wish I could be open with you. You think it’d be easier now that you know the dirty stuff, but I feel like my trust has been violated. I have this…  _urge_  to close off more than I did before.” 

* * *

Zuko sighed at her response, but nodded. He didn’t only want to do it for Kya’s sake- he wanted her to come for her own sake too, for their marriage’s sake. Because she wanted to be with them- both of them. That was what Zuko had wanted, but he decided not to press it.

He was hurt at her confession, but at least it was honesty. His chest felt heavy, and Zuko pursed his lips. “I hope you know I didn’t intentionally listen on to you and Tonraq,” Zuko told her. “I didn’t go looking to… snoop, or anything. Not that it excuses it… I’m sorry I eavesdropped, but I really didn’t mean to. I just felt too awkward to get up, and I didn’t expect you to talk about anything too heavy, and then when you did- it seemed even worse to make my presence known… I didn’t mean to,” Zuko explained, “But… that being said, I know it was still wrong, and I’m sorry,” Zuko told her.

“I wish I could show you that you can trust me,” Zuko told her. “I’m sorry I haven’t… it should be obvious- I should make that way, and I want to. I’m sorry it hasn’t been… I- I hope I can better that because… you deserve so much more,” Zuko spoke, then pinching the bridge of his nose.

It seemed so easy before this whole mess came into play. They’d always been best friends. Katara, at least he though, told him everything- and trusted him above anyone. He was hurt to know that wasn’t the case, and more than that, he felt terrible for not giving her he space for it to be. It was for him. She’d given it to him. All he wanted was to give her that- she deserved better than it even, and he couldn’t deliver any.

“But… please… come tonight… Kya will be happy, at least. And… I’ll be glad you came. I hope after you do, you will too.”


	55. Chapter 55

“No… no, I’m not saying I won’t go,” Katara interjected. “I will. It’ll be good for Kya and, maybe even good for us.” She smiled slightly, and put a hand on Zuko’s bicep, squeezing affectionately. 

“I just wanted to apologize,” she explained, “in case you felt like I wasn’t sorry or upset. I wanted you to know that I am, that I want us to work again.” Katara rubbed up and down Zuko’s arm, then let him go. “I’ll go change, okay? Tell Kya I’m going.”  

* * *

Zuko smiled, nodding towards her, and he leaned in for a brief, but affectionate peck on the lips before she went off to change. Zuko then set off to tell Kya- who was elated. He left the rest of the children with Pakku, and then held Kya’s pudgy little hand as they walked to wait for Katara in the foyer.

Kya was all dressed up, and thrilled for the show. She showed her father all sorts of paintings she’d made for the actors. Zuko promised Katara would get them to the players- she did have quite the expansive network.

Kya was sitting on the sofa beside her father, gripping his arm and swaying her feet that didn’t hit the bottom of the floor. “Papa…” began Kya, sadness in her voice. “Why doesn’t Mama love you anymore?” Asked Kya quietly, ashamed of her question.

Zuko pulled back in shock. He forgot how perceptive kids were. They were more aware than adults gave them credit for. Zuko took a deep breath, and knelt in front of Kya, taking her hands in his own. Fat tears built in her eyes as she sniffled, and they rolled off her cheeks. Zuko brushed them away.

“Shhh, shhh, my turtle duck,” Comforted Zuko. “No, no, what gave you a crazy idea like that? You don’t need to worry about a silly thing like that, my love,” Zuko whispered, kissing her forehead. “I love your mom, and she loves me, and most importantly, Mama and Papa love you very, very, very much,” Zuko stressed. “Mama and I have silly grownup things going on, that you don’t worry about at all, okay? Everything is fine, princess,” Zuko promised her, heartbroken by how upset she was.

“Pyka’s papa left his mama,” cried Kya, wiping at her face, and Zuko pushed her hands away in worry, drying her tears with his sleeves. “I don’t want you or Mama to go away,” she broke down, hanging her head and putting her face in her little hands.

“Sweetheart, shhh, no, no, never,” Zuko spoke, then pulling his daughter into his arms. Zuko stroked her back, swaying her in his arms as he pulled her up onto the couch in his arms. He rocked her as he kept her close, patting her back. “Turtle duck, everything will be fine. It’s like when you aren’t getting along with Hakoda and Ursa and Iroh, right? You still love them. That’s all. Don’t worry. And, no matter what happens, ever, Mama and me will never, ever, ever leave you, okay? Never, ever, ever, ever- no matter what. We love you. I love you. Mama loves you,” Zuko assured her, closing his eyes as his heart ached and he kept rocking his little girl in his arms.

Zuko only looked up when he noticed Katara at the walkway.

* * *

A knife ripped through her gut. She was in the doorway just long for the stabbing pain to tear up her abdomen and bury itself in her heart. Katara felt her breath leave her in what would’ve been a sob, had she not caught herself with her fingers over her mouth. She placed her other hand over her stomach, wishing the life that grew there didn’t exist; if it didn’t, her problems wouldn’t either. 

And that made her sick, that she could resent a child _,_ an innocent, developing child. Who would ever forgive her _that?_

Katara dropped her arms to her sides and swallowed, leaving her gaze on the floor until she was sure she wouldn’t cry. She was failing everyone: her husband, her children, her nation. And she dared concern herself with her own, personal feelings? She scoffed silently, eventually looking up and looking happy, even though she felt defeated inside. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, noticing Zuko’s eyes on her finally. Katara forced a smile and held out a hand for him. “Sorry to keep you two waiting.” 

* * *

Zuko gave Katara an encouraging smile. He wondered how long she had been there to hear. He hoped not too much, she didn’t deserve the heartache he knew Kya’s words would bring. They’d brought heartache to his too, but he was glad Kya said something. He wouldn’t forgive himself if Kya couldn’t confide in him. He was glad he could put her little worries to rest. She was too young for such things.

Zuko took Katara’s hand, and kissed Kya’s cheek. He placed her down, and Kya embraced her mother tightly. “I think we’re all set. What do you say, turtle duck?” Asked Zuko with a smirk, playfully bumping her arm.

Kya smiled then, wiping at her eyes ones more while clinging to her mother. “I’m ready!” She agreed, and Zuko smiled to see Kya smiling. He knew it was genuine by the same way Katara had always known his own smiles were genuine. It was lopsided across her face, baring her toothless grin. Her smile brought on his own. Zuko ruffled her hair lovingly.

“I love you, Mama,” Kya whispered, burying her face against her belly. Zuko wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pecked Katara’s cheek.

“I love your mama too,” teased zuko, squeezing Katara’s shoulder, “Come on, the coach is waiting outside. If we don’t hurry, we won’t have time for snacks!”

* * *

Katara swept Kya up to her hip with a small grunt and nuzzled her nose. “I love you, too, my darling. Aren’t you excited? You get a whole evening with Mama and Papa all to yourself.” She pecked her daughter’s nose with a laugh.

With Zuko’s hand on her lower back, Katara followed his lead out to the carriage, praying that Kya couldn’t sense her tension. The little girl’s words wouldn’t stop spinning in her head, going ‘round and ‘round like a top. She felt terrible, like she’d been a terrible mother and partner. Her children shouldn’t have an inkling that anything was wrong between their parents. 

As they settled inside the coach, Katara slid close to Zuko, letting Kya sit in her lap. The princess chattered happily all the way into the city. When they arrived at the playhouse, Katara led them inside and directed Kya towards the snack line. She bounded ahead, leaving Zuko and Katara a few paces behind. 

Katara used the opportunity to take his hand. “How long as she been coming to you about us? How long has she been worrying that I’m going to leave?” 

* * *

Zuko was glad to see Kya skipping along so light. He wanted her to be carefree. Children deserved to be carefree. He never had that opportunity. His childhood was stripped away by the time he could walk. Zuko refused to let that happen to his own children, even in the most minute way. 

As Kya trotted along happily with her paintings in tow, Zuko laughed. He was taken from his admiration of his daughter when Katara took his hand, her face grim. Zuko gave her a squeeze in return and met her gaze worriedly- already being able to guess what it would be about. 

Zuko licked his lips and sighed. He was hoping Katara hadn’t heard too much, but guessed she did.  “She… she just… broke down today for the first time. We were waiting for you, and she started… she just started crying,” whispered Zuko somberly, his free hand rubbing over his forehead. “I felt terrible for her, Kat… she just… she was worried because of a friend of her. Her friend’s father left his mother, saying he didn’t love the mother anymore, and… Kya asked if you still loved me, and she just started crying,” Zuko spoke. 

“It’s… it’s both our faults. We should’ve watched our behavior more,” Zuko admitted. “I forget how perceptive kids are. The last thing I want, and I know the last thing you want too, is for the kids to get worried about this. They’re too little, and it’s nothing for them to fret over,” Zuko spoke, knowing his wife would agree. “We… we’re going to mend things in time, so there’s no use getting them worked up over it.”

* * *

“Is it though?” Katara pressed, giving Zuko an apprehensive look. “Do you really believe it’s _our_ fault?” she asked. “It’d be far easier just to blame me. It’d be far easier to throw me into the fire. Kya didn’t ask about you leaving; she asked about me.” 

They’d reached the end of the line, now standing behind Kya. When the girl looked back at her parents, Katara smiled and quickly put her arm around Zuko’s waist. “Get whatever you’d like, darling, and pick out some chocolate for me.” 

The second Kya turned around, Katara’s voice dropped. “I’m the one at fault here, Zuko. I think everyone knows that. Everyone _believes_ that. I left the home for three days, then a week. I didn’t fight the council on any of it. Everything we’ve lost is because of me, because of my weakness.”  

* * *

Zuko shook his head, wanting to refute her claim, but they quickly reached the checkout. Zuko’s heart sunk when Katara instantly grabbed his waist when Kya turned around beaming. He hated the put on; he hated that it had to be some fake show now. Since when did they need to fake affection? It’d always been there so naturally, even before they fell in love. Zuko hated it. He had to keep himself smiling as not to worry his daughter because his heart was aching.

Zuko swallowed thickly, and turned back to his wife when Kya began shuffling with the choices. “It’s not just your fault,” Zuko replied. “She’s our little girl. We’re supposed to make sure she doesn’t worry. We’re supposed to keep her safe- both of us, not just you, and not just me– we’re her parents,” Zuko explained. 

“We both contributed to this mess, Kat. I don’t know that your the only one at fault, and that’s not what I believe. I don’t think Tonraq thinks so either, or Pakku, or Yue, or Yugoda, or anyone that matters in the least. Your council is full of assholes, and I wish there was a way to rid of them,” grumbled Zuko irritably. He hated the council more than Tonraq. 

“Kids are smart, and… I feel like it’s easy to forget that- I think I did. We assumed they wouldn’t see the tension we’ve had the last two weeks, but they did, and it worried her,” Zuko explained. “We went from never being able to take our hands off each other, laughing together, hugging, kissing, talking for hours on end every day, having breakfast every morning together, taking tea breaks together, drinking wine up at night in our bed… the kids would jump in every morning with us on top of each other, now… there’s all this tension and… this… distance… of course they’re going to notice– and we did that… we both did,” Zuko told her, growing upset as he went on because he hated saying it aloud. It hurt like hell, and he just wanted his wife back. He wanted what they had again. It was beautiful and pure, and if it was all gone for good, he’d crumble.

Zuko swallowed thickly, he refused to let Kya see his grief. He refused to allow her any more worry. When she turned around, she handed her mother a chocolate bar, and Zuko a cherry soda, knowing it was his favorite. She was carrying a big bag of fire flakes, imported right from the Fire Nation. Zuko ruffled her hair lovingly, and just as lovingly kept his hand in Katara’s. “We… we can talk more tonight… let’s… let’s just enjoy the show- for Kya.”

* * *

Katara kept her fingers linked with Zuko’s and let him lead the way to their seats. They had a private booth, a perk of her status and something Kya absolutely loved. She could see the stage well and watch other audience members take their seats, all from the comfort of a plushy seat. 

Katara warned Kya away from the balcony railing and then sank down beside Zuko. She kept her hands on him, but it didn’t feel natural like it did when they were in the infirmary. 

Maybe she’d been too honest. Maybe she shouldn’t have stopped him. He was her husband, after all; regardless of how she felt, Katara should’ve let Zuko do whatever he wanted. Maybe they’d be closer, emotionally, and there wouldn’t be this tension all over again. 

She chewed her nail as she worried, only letting her hand go when Kya came to sit. Katara push an arm around her little shoulders and tickled her back as the play began, passing the bag of fire flakes on to Zuko. 

it didn’t take more than one act for Katara to realize she couldn’t focus. Maybe she should’ve stayed home. 

* * *

Zuko hated how it felt forced, and now, it was all he could think about. He put on a big smile for Kya, and munched away on the fire flakes, but the play was only in the back of his mind. In the forefront was his worries and troubles. He hoped Kya was entranced in the show, and didn’t notice. She looked like she was, and it put a smile on his face. He was happy she was having a good time. 

He wished Katara and himself were. A few months ago they would have. None of this would be happening then. Zuko didn’t understand how a series of events could unfold everything. It was breaking his heart, and he could see on his wife’s face that hers was breaking too, and that hurt worst of all.

She looked downtrodden, and Zuko put a genuine hand on her thigh in comfort. He hoped he could offer some. “Hey,” murmured Zuko lowly, “Are you okay?”

* * *

“No,” Katara whispered, shaking her head imperceptibly. She didn’t want Kya to notice. The play, at least, was enrapturing with songs and dancing. No matter her parents’ troubles, it’d be a surprise if Kya looked away at all.  

Shifting slightly, Katara put her hand over Zuko’s, then laid her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t mad at him. She was upset with herself, indirectly angry, and reeling with self-inflicted blame, but Katara wanted Zuko to know it wasn’t him. She needed him to know she sought his comfort, even if she struggled with the right ways to ask for it. 

For her, nuzzling up to him right then was the first act that felt natural and comfortable all night. 

“I’m a lone wolf,” she said. “I _feel_ alone, even when I’m not.” Her eyes drifted to Kya for a moment. “You have four children who are just like you, who love you, who never worry about your dedication. I must’ve gone wrong somewhere, for them to think I could leave.” 

Katara lifted her head so she could look at him, even in the dim theatre. “What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong, Zuko? I was never this weak-willed women who’d let a council of baboons boss me around, but I feared so much for the lives of my children… and it backfired. None of you trust me, now.” 

* * *

Zuko lied his head atop his wife’s, taking her hand in the first moment that felt genuinely intimate since they were in the infirmary. It was sad, but it was real. Zuko watched their daughter while he listened to Katara speak. Her words struck his heart, and he looked at her in worry. 

“Katara,” Zuko uttered, “You didn’t go wrong at all. Agni, our children adore you,” Zuko assured her. “Kya loves you so much, and Ursa wants to _be_ you,” he said with a tender laugh. “Hakoda is a bigger mama’s boy than I was, and that’s saying something, and I basically have to pry our little Iroh off of you,” Zuko said with a tearful smile. 

“They don’t really worry, Kat. It’s just– there’s a lot happening, and Kya got it in her head from her friend’s father,” Zuko spoke. “Our children love you, Kat. You’re a wonderful, loving, supportive mother. That’s one thing I would never stand for. So if I thought you weren’t, you’d know about it,” Zuko said with jest. “But, you’re the best mother a child could hope for. Just because things are hard… doesn’t mean it isn’t true. The same stands for you as a wife. You’re the best wife a man could dream of. Just because things are difficult, that could never take that truth away, Kat,” Zuko emphasized. 

“I love you; our children love you. That will never change.”

* * *

“I hope you’re right,” she murmured, laying her head down again. Tears blurred her vision, making the colors on stage smear together.  Katara blinked and focused on Kya, who was watching with wide-eyed enthusiasm. 

“I don’t mean this as a low-blow. _At all,_ but,” Katara said, sharing more of her fears, “you are the prime example of how poor parents can be, how much damage they can inflict. You’ve overcome it, of course, but I don’t ever want to give my children circumstances to overcome. I just thought I was a better parent than that, a better parent that to cause my daughter worry.” 

“And now I don’t know what to do,” she admitted quietly. “I’m here. I’m back. _I’m struggling_. There’s… Yugoda dredged up too much today and she’ll bring up more tomorrow, I’m sure. There’s almost too much for me to deal with, especially when I have a family and a nation depending on me.” 

* * *

Zuko put his head against his wife’s, holding her hand. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, hoping he could offer her comfort. He pursed his lips at her words, not offended at all, instead, he entirely agreed. It hurt to think of his children put through the same pain, and this was something he, too, worried over every day. 

“I know, Kat,” Zuko spoke. “I worry about the same thing. I’ve worried about it since before Hakdoa was born. I’m always terrified I’ll mess up and wind up exactly like my own father… or even my mom. I loved my mom, but… she left me there, me and Azula,” Zuko said with a shaking breath. “I don’t ever want my kids to feel the way I did my entire childhood. The mere thought makes me sick, and I’m terrified that I’ll become the one to inflict that on them,” Zuko explained. 

“I know you have so much, Kat. You have so much, and… I don’t know how you juggle it all,” Zuko said with a small laugh. He truly did always admire her for that. “You’ve done so much for everyone. You… you should do something for yourself sometime,” he spoke. “I know that’s easier said than done, but… I- should do more too. But, Kat, I’ll help you. I’ll help you with anything and everything. I’m always here to help you, Kat. I know you can do it– but you shouldn’t have to do it, not everything, Kat,” Zuko spoke. 

“And, Kat… you’re a great mom. I worry that I might do something that wounds our children, but not once has it ever even crossed my mind that you would or could,” Zuko told her honestly. “That’s never concerned me, not even a passing thought, for a half of a second,” Zuko explained. “You’ve only ever helped our kids overcome things, and you’ve been there for them every step of the way, despite how much is on your plate, love. You’ve somehow managed to be there for everything– for all of our children,” Zuko whispered. “I have no worries you’ll be able to do the same for the baby on the way– and you’ll do it for our children as they grow up, all the same… even when they grow into irritating teenagers,” Zuko said with a laugh.

“Kya caught onto the tension we’ve had, yes, but Kat… we can’t be perfect. I want to be, and I know you do too, but we’re trying, and we can’t shield them from everything. We can try our best to protect them, but… sometimes they’re gonna skin their knees, and… they’re gonna worry,” Zuko murmured, “Because they’re still people, and… this world sucks,” Zuko said with a laugh. “Besides, how couldn’t they worry even a bit– they are my kids,” Zuko jested, then shook his head. “Kya will be fine. This will pass– we’ll overcome it, and Kya will forget all of this by the weekend, if she hasn’t already. Look at her face, she’s elated. If we get those paintings to the actors, she’ll be over the moon.”

* * *

“You act like I’m not the queen,” Katara smirked. “I can go wherever and do whatever I want, including a meet-and-greet with the actors.” She nudged Zuko in the ribs playfully, then rustled Kya’s hair. The little girl’s eyes didn’t pull away from the stage, but she did scoot closer to her mother. 

And, while Katara wished she could be so focused on the acting, she was bolstered and encouraged by Zuko’s words. Katara vowed she’d try harder, at least in front of her children, to keep their faith and confidence, but she did trust Zuko. If she was doing a poor job, if there was reason to worry, he’d tell her. 

Katara kept her head on Zuko’s shoulder through the end of the play, smiling slightly when it ended. The three of them stood with the crowd to cheer for the actors. As the applause died, Kya began bouncing up and down. 

“Can we go? Please! I told you it would be good! Can we meet them?” 

“Of course, my little love. Gather all your pictures and paintings,” Katara instructed, helping Kya straighten out the pile. “They’ll be so excited to meet the princess.” 

* * *

Zuko smiled as the play ended. He hadn’t paid much attention, and he felt guilty for it, since it was so important to Kya, but his head was just all over the place. He was glad to see Kya hopping about, and excited. She was tugging on both her parents, and smiling from ear-to-ear, her grin going askew the same way his own did. Zuko kissed Kya’s forehead, and followed his family along to go meet the actors his daughter so adored. 

Kya was holding the pictures close as Katara pushed past everyone, and was allowed backstage. Zuko smirked at the privilege, and Kya was giggling excitedly, holding the paintings to her chest as she showed them off to Katara. When the actors came out, they looked stunned to see the royal family. Zuko shook their hands, and Kya gave them the pictures. 

The play members were delighted with them, and gave Kya autographs, and promised to invite her to lunch one of the days they didn’t have a show going. Kya was on cloud nine with the invite, and chattered about it all throughout as they left the theater and on their walk back to the palace. 

Zuko didn’t know how she didn’t get plumb exhausted. He was by the time he tucked her into bed, and went in to kiss the rest of his children goodnight. It felt extra quiet in he and Katara’s bedroom then, and he smiled at Katara as he went to get changed into his pajamas with a yawn. 

“That was nice. Kya was so happy,” Zuko spoke, stretching as he removed his clothes, and slid on the flannel top of his pajamas he’d grabbed from the dresser. “The look on her face when she met the actors made my night.”

* * *

Katara smiled. “It was great, wasn’t it? I’m glad we went. Kya will be over the top excited for weeks to come,” she said, “and we could all use a touch of infectious joy around the palace.”

She discarded her clothing as Zuko climbed into bed and pulled a robe around her shoulders. Katara made quick work of her bindings behind the privacy of the draped fabric, then tied the robe shut. She grabbed a pair of wool socks and padded to the bed.

“No cold feet on you tonight,” Katara teased, settling on her side of the bed and stuffing her feet into the socks. “I know how much you hate that; that, and my cold hands on your belly.” She laughed, but it felt hallow.

She turned down the oil lamp beside her pillow and lay back, tugging the blankets up to her chin. The room was oppressively quiet. Katara wished for the howl of the wind around the hut or the lapping waves on Ember Island, something to fill the silence and take attention away from how much there was to say, and how little words there were to say it.

Katara chewed her lip until her eyes adjusted in the dark, then rolled onto her side. “I guess… goodnight. I love you, Zuko.”

* * *

Zuko laughed wearily when she mentioned her cold feet and hands. Right now, he didn’t think he’d mind that at all, not a bit. But, he laid down, his eyelids feeling like cinderblocks as he struggled to keep them opened. The bed was soft, and things were still hard, but in a strange sort of way, Zuko felt like progress had been made today between them. He felt confident that if they stayed on this path, and were patient, in time- things would go back to normal, or at least a new normal. He could be okay with that. 

Despite the cinderblocks on his eyelids, a weight was lifted from his shoulders and Zuko eased at the utterance of those three words. Zuko smiled tiredly, but sat up, leaning over and kissing Katara on the cheek, lingering there softly. “I love you, too,” Zuko whispered, giving her arm a squeeze before running his hand down it to take her hand, “So much… cold hands and all,” he teased, squeezing her hand before lying back down, but he kept an arm strewn over her affectionately. “Goodnight, love.”

///////

The next morning Zuko awoke before the rest of his family, as usual. On Sunday, Katara usually took the day off, if possible, to spend time with their family. Zuko took the opportunity to make breakfast. He was down in the private kitchen in the palace, still in his pajamas and making waffles and pancakes. Each one of their kids had special requests. Kya liked bananas in hers, Ursa liked strawberries, Hakoda liked whipped cream on top, Iroh refused to eat pancakes, but adored waffles, and Katara liked chocolate chip. There was a menagerie of ingredients on the counter, and the kettle was set when Yue knocked on the door before entering.

“Yue, good morning,” Zuko said with a small smile, but his stomach turned. He remembered what Katara had said while they were with Yugoda. He bit his lip, feeling guilty for two reasons. He felt guilty Katara thought anything was going on between them, and because there wasn’t, he felt guilty to send Yue away. He didn’t want to hurt her either– he didn’t want to damage the close friendship she had with Katara, too. They were like sisters. He didn’t want to threaten that, but he couldn’t stay talking to Yue alone like this in good conscience after what Katara said. He wanted things to keep improving. 

“Good morning, Zuko! That smells great! What are you up to?” Yue asked. 

Zuko let out a shaky sigh, and glanced aside. The words were difficult. “Yue… I… you haven’t done anything wrong, and you’re a great friend to both me and my wife, but… I just… things are tense right now, and… I just… I don’t– I can’t… we can’t be alone together right now,” Zuko tried to explain. “If Katara is around, it’s fine, but… things are… tough now, and I just– I need the space, if that’s okay?” Zuko asked, trying to be as kind as possible.

Yue still looked hurt and saddened, but she nodded quietly, taking her things. “Okay… of- of course, sure,” she whispered, flustered and clearly embarrassed. “I… I’ll see you later… I… see you, Zuko,” stammered Yue. 

Zuko took a deep breath as she exited, feeling bad for interjecting, but he’d feel worse if he let whatever that was– what he thought was simply a friendship, continue, at least like that. He couldn’t just cut Yue out, that wouldn’t be right, and Katara loved her. But for now, Zuko needed things to be clear. He didn’t want her to feel like there was any sort of threat. 

Zuko’s worry faded to a smile when he heard the familiar creaking of the stairs and Hakoda and Iroh came down the steps, yawning. Iroh was dragging his blanket that his namesake had given him at his birth, and Hakoda was clutching a polar bear dog that Pakku gave him years and years ago. Zuko flashed a smirk at his boys. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve followed all the special requests.”


	56. Chapter 56

_“Pancakes!!!”_

Katara came into the kitchen with Kya and Ursa, barely able to contain them as they squealed in excitement. She gave up all together and let the girls race to the table, taking their places beside the brothers. Zuko brought out the plates as Katara took her seat, but her reaction was far less jovial than the girls’.

“Smells like, _um…”_ She looked at her stack of pancakes with a grimace, then at Zuko. Katara didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she didn’t think she’d be able to keep even a bite down. The aroma alone had taken her from feeling perfectly well to feeling like she had the flu.

“I might need to start with some ginger tea… if that’s alright. I can get it.” She pushed up from her seat, an apology in her eyes for Zuko. “I’m sorry, I’m just not… I’m a little sick. I know the kids appreciate it, though. Thank you, love.”

Katara skirted around the table, brushing Hakoda’s hair as she passed him. She went into the kitchen for a tea cup and the kettle, but the stench of overly sweet pancakes was even worse there. Katara tried to fend off the urge to vomit, pressing her fingers to her mouth, but it was no use. She made it to the wash basin just in time, heaved over the side, then rinsed her mouth and the sink out with water.

“Morning sickness?” A soft voice asked. “I had it throughout both of my pregnancies.”

Katara turned around, startled. “Yue… I didn’t hear you come in.” She turned the faucet off and wiped her chin. “Are you hungry? I probably won’t be eating my pancakes.”

“No, I’m not.” Her friend shook her head, a petulant expression knitting her brows. “I ate with Kazu after Zuko all but banished me this morning.”

“Zuko did _what_?”

“He told me that you don’t like us spending time together, that you’re jealous he’s found comfort and happiness in me,” Yue said. Her voice took on a crueler note. “He doesn’t want to give you reason to worry, despite your inability to instill any confidence in him.”

Katara’s expression shifted slowly, turning from shock to sorrow. “He said th—“

“Does it matter about the specifics?” Yue snarled. “You’re a selfish bitch, Katara. You hurt your husband over and over, but you won’t reliqunish your choke hold on his throat and let him have some goddamn love and joy in life.”

“Yue, I never—“

“Just shut up.” Yue turned on her heel and marched towards the kitchen door. “I’ll keep away from him, but maybe you should start treating him right. Don’t act surprised that he found someone else who would.”

The door slammed in Yue’s wake and Katara was left staring. She didn’t move until the scent of pancakes caught her again. She heaved into the sink.

* * *

Things that were too sweet had sickened Katara through every one of her pregnancies. He should’ve known better. “Oh crap, I’m sorry, Kat, I don’t know how I forgot,” Zuko apologized. “I can– I’ll make some toast to settle your stomach, and get the tea going,” Zuko assured her, grumbling to himself. 

Katara went to the bathroom, and Zuko felt bad for making her feel like shit. He set the kettle on and got to work on the tea, and also through some bread into the oven to toast. He walked then around the table, filling their kids’ cups with juice as they gabbed and chattered away happily. 

When what felt like too long came through, Zuko went up to the wash room’s door. He knocked, leaning against it patiently. “Kat… love? Are– are you okay? I just want to check in? Do you feel all right? I have the tea all ready, and made some toast if you want that,” Zuko offered. “I… do you want me to come in there?”

* * *

Katara rinsed her face with water, glaring down at the sink basin for a moment. She thought about sending him away, just giving a curt answer and telling him to get back to the kids. But, knowing Zuko, he’d just push harder. And harder. Until she cracked with the answer. 

She grabbed a towel to dry her face and unlocked the door, smiling tiredly as it swung open. “I’m fine,” she answered. Her voice was cheery and fake. “You know how certain foods make me. A cup of ginger tea to settle the nausea and I’ll be fit as a fiddle.” 

* * *

She didn’t sound very well, but Zuko decided he shouldn’t push her, then. He sighed shakily, and nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see. “Okay, love,” Zuko murmured, “I’ll have the tea out on the table whenever you’re ready,” Zuko told her gently, and left the door. 

He warmed up the tea with his bending until she returned. In the meantime, he wiped the chocolate from his kids’ faces, and smiled as they ran off together to play with Druk. Zuko kept warming the tea while he did the dishes. He turned when he heard his wife walk back in. 

“Kat,” spoke Zuko, a smile on his face. “Are you feeling any better, my love?” Zuko asked, his eyes turned in concern. Zuko grabbed the tea and brought it over to her, smiling tenderly as it matched his eyes, “I kept it nice in warm, but not too hot,” he said with a teasing smirk. “There’s some toast too, if you want it just let me know.”

* * *

“No toast. It might upset me,” Katara said, “but the tea is fine. Thank you.” She took the cup from Zuko and sat at the table. The kids were gone; Katara felt a pang of guilt at missing breakfast with them, but she couldn’t help her symptoms. She tried not to blame herself. 

Even though she had a thousand things to carry the blame for… Katara hung her head.

If Zuko was really so unhappy, like Yue said, if he was real so loveless and so joyless in his marriage to her, wouldn’t it be better of her to let him go? He’d never leave the kids; maybe that was his excuse for staying through all of this. 

Katara bit her lip to stay silent, to keep from jumping to any conclusions. It hadn’t exactly sunk in yet, but if there was one thing sticking in her head from yesterday’s session with Yugoda, it was that she wasn’t alone. She didn’t have to act alone. 

“Zuko,” Katara murmured, looking up from her tea. “Did you talk to Yue this morning?” 

* * *

Zuko nodded at her, glad to see that she seemed somewhat better. She didn’t look as nauseous as she usually did with morning sickness. He grabbed his own cup of tea and joined his wife at the table. He reached for her free hand over it as he sipped at his tea, enjoying the silence again with her for the first time in a while– and it was nice. 

He never minded when it was broken, though. He looked up at Katara attentively, but once he heard his question, he sighed. Yue must’ve said something to her. Zuko nodded, and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. 

“She came in this morning while I was making pancakes,” Zuko replied. “I just told her that we were going through a rough patch, and I remembered what you said when we were Yugoda. I told her that for now it wasn’t good that we spent so much time together alone while I was trying to work on our marriage. I said that I’d like it, and I told her you probably would too, if all three of us spent time together… because I felt bad to just shut her out. We’re all she has here besides her son, so I couldn’t do that,” Zuko explained. 

“Was she upset? I didn’t mean to be cruel. I tried to be kind when I told her,” Zuko explained with a frown. “I really never had… feelings, or anything like that for her,” Zuko assured Katara. “Even when things are at their worst, Kat, I’m committed to you,” he promised her. “But, I don’t want to cross any lines, and if you think they were being crossed, then that’s why I set them for Yue. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings- if that’s what she told you I did. Should I apologize? I know she’s like a sister to you. The last thing I want is to cause anything between you two and your twenty-year friendship. I know you two are like sisters.”

* * *

“Yeah,” Katara almost scoffed, remembering Yue’s harsh words to her. “We’re just like sisters.” She took a sip of tea to hide a grimace, then looked across the table at Zuko. “She found me after the pancake incident. She was… a little upset, but I— I understand it.”

Reaching across the table for his hand, Katara let out a heavy sigh. “You’re close to her. And, she’s close to you. I can’t take that away from you. I think… the two of you… you’re all the other has in the way of having someone who understands.” She swallowed, fighting off tears.

It was heavy, the weight on her soul, a leaden mix of guilt, shame, and jealousy. But, if her husband wasn’t happy, Katara owed it to him to do whatever she could to mend that. She owed him the world, after the harsh realities he’d trudged through with her. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair for Katara to keep Zuko in the trenches. He’d faced enough. Like Yue said, he deserved love and joy in his life.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was too harsh yesterday, too quick to judge your other relationships,” she said. “Honestly, it was an… an offhand, snide comment.”

“If Yue and Kazu bring you some happiness, if you’ve found some comfort in that you both have unfaithful spouses…” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’m not going to keep her from you. I’m not expecting you to stay away. You can do whatever you want with Yue, Zuko. You have my blessing. I—“

Katara picked her next words carefully. She didn’t want him to think he had permission to cheat, per se. However, he now had the freedom to do as he saw fit. If that meant staying, leaving, or simply taking Yue as a lover, Zuko had to decide for himself. Katara wouldn’t protest any of it so long as she wasn’t in the dark.

“I trust you, Zuko. I trust you to be honest with me.”

* * *

“ _Katara_ ,” began Zuko, “Yue is a good friend to me, but… you’re my best friend,” he told her honestly, as she entrusted. “I’m not going to continue to do something that’s making you feel uncomfortable. I grew close to Yue, but I’m closest to you. I don’t feel anything romantic about her at all, whatsoever, and I don’t want you to think that or feel afraid that I do. There is no one who could even come within the line of vision for what I see in you,” Zuko tried to explain earnestly.

“I only have eyes for you,” clarified the prince. “You’re my wife, the mother of my children, my partner of ten years, my best friend, my most trusted confidante, and you’re the love of my life, Katara. Yue is just a friend. I’m not looking for anything anywhere else. I don’t want anything I have with you replaced… why would I want to trade my platinum for fools’ gold?” he teased. “What I have with you is real, and irreplaceable in every scope,” Zuko stressed, hoping his words were coming out right. He didn’t want to belittle Yue, but there was no woman who could even hold a candle to Katara’s importance in his life–ever.

“The only thing I want with Yue is to have a casual friendship with her. But, for now, it’s best we focus on what’s going on between us- and I don’t want you to be worried. I would never be anything but honest with you, Kat, especially about this,” Zuko assured her. “I don’t want you to worry, I know you are, but please believe me when I say there is nothing for you to even worry about.”

* * *

“Well, that’s good. That’s great,” Katara said, shrugging like it all meant nothing to her. “All I’m saying is that you can _keep_ being her friend. You don’t have to isolate yourself to me because I got jealous. We both know I have an irrational problem with that anyway.” 

She smiled wryly, thinking on Jin for a moment. If she were to meet Mai, who Zuko assessed as being terrible and cruel, Katara wondered if she’d behave any better. She doubted it, given her track record when it came to women flirting with her husband. Her only defense was that she’d been pregnant when she met Jin. She was allowed a mood swing or two, wasn’t she?

“I’m trying to be better, though,” Katara explained. “I trust that you’re being honest with me, Zuko. I trust that you’ll continue to be honest. I’m not going to be the type of wife that keeps your balls in my hand. I have to allow you to have friends and relationships… and Yue… she- she really cares for you.” 

* * *

Zuko frowned at Katara’s demeanor. She still sounded upset. Zuko held her hand tighter, and smiled at her words. She made him laugh when mentioning jealousy. He remembered how angry she was when Jin showed up to the Summit, and when they met Mai at a theater on Ember Island. He tried to give her nothing to worry about because frankly there was nothing.

“Don’t be jealous, my love. You have all my heart, and you always will,” promised Zuko, still smirking at her speech. “Yue cares for you too, you know,” Zuko told her sincerely.

“We’ve never had anything but nice things to say about you, Kat… there’s no… bonding over cheating spouses, or anything like that,” Zuko stated. “We have nothing of that sort to bond over anyway. My wife didn’t cheat on me,” Zuko said matter-of-factly. “I know you did it for your tribe, Kat. You didn’t choose to do that. You didn’t disregard our marriage. You came right back to me… I’m a lucky man,” Zuko said with a tender smile.

“Why don’t the three of us do something, then? Not right this second, but maybe later on. Yue can bring her son, and we’ll bring the kids. Yue will be glad to see you, and if you’re up for it… I’d like to spend more time with you too, Kat. I know it’s hard, but… last night was nice.”

* * *

Katara frowned. After the way Yue talked to her, it didn’t seem like the greatest idea to then spend time with Zuko and the Princess. But, she didn’t feel like she could refuse without Zuko assuming she was doing it to avoid him. So, she nodded. 

“Okay… If you want to plan something,” she suggested. “I— I don’t really care what it is. Just keep in mind we’re supposed to speak with Yugoda, again. And I do have a bit of work to do.” 

She polished off her tea and stood up. “Sorry, the couple of hours we spent talking yesterday put me behind. I had to move yesterday’s Council meeting to today. But…” Katara shrugged, smiling slightly. “That delay did give me more time to think about what I’m going to say to them. They’ve thoroughly pissed me off and there won’t be a soul spared my wrath.” 

* * *

“Oh— of course, it doesn’t have to be today or anything. I just thought it’d be nice, at some point…” Zuko spoke, feeling her lack of enthusiasm, and wondering what was wrong. “I know we have Yugoda, and you’re the chief, of course you’re busy,” Zuko said with a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

It did reach his eyes when he smirked. “The council deserves every bit of your wrath,” Zuko said proudly, pulling her hand to his lips to kiss tenderly. “Thank you for that… I know it goes deeper than what it has to do with me, they overstepped your power, but… thank you for sticking up from me,” Zuko whispered, smirking with pride.

He then sighed, thinking of the Yue issue again, and all of it. “Kat… did Yue… say something to you? You seem upset… more upset than before.”

* * *

“I’m fine, Zuko. I promise.” Katara ran her thumb over his knuckles, refusing to let go even when Zuko dropped her hand from his lips. She squeezes his fingers tighter. “Yue just… made me realize I was in the wrong… and apologizing’s hard for me.” 

She smiled softly, meeting Zuko’s eyes. Katara stepped a little closer to his seat, she was between his leg, looking down at him. She let go of his hand to cup his face then, her fingertips delicately brushing his jawline and cheekbones. 

“I love you,” Katara whispered. “I love you so much, and I’ll apologize for everything, everyday, if that’s what it takes to keep you, to reassure you.” She bowed her head to his, bumping his nose affectionately. Her lips tickled his, but Katara held back from kissing him. “I’m going to fight for you, Zuko. I’ll fight the Council. I’ll fight my nation—” 

She ran her fingers into his hair, closed her eyes. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. You are it for me and I’m sorry I ever made you doubt it. I’m sorry I made you unhappy… I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

* * *

“Kat,” began Zuko, shaking his head, “I was in the wrong too. We both did this,” Zuko tried to assure her. “I’m no angel,” he spoke with a laugh, pulling her in close when she stepped in towards him and cupped his face. Zuko held her wrists as she touched him, and reveled in the tender affection. 

Her words had his heart a _puddle_ of mush. “God, I love you too– more than _anything_ ,” Zuko replied. “You’ve apologized more than enough times, my love,” Zuko whispered, “And, I know you hate it,” Zuko said with a tender laugh, tears coming to surface despite himself. But, tears felt _safe_ with Katara. 

Zuko brushed his nose against his wife’s lovingly. “You don’t have to fight for me, Kat. I’m already yours, and I always will be. There’s no one to fight, no battles to win… you have me for life,” promised Zuko, his hand skimming down her neck as she curled her fingers in his hair. “You never made me unhappy, Katara. The situation did… and it was thrust on both of us against our wills,” Zuko tried to reassure her. “But, I’ll forgive you time and time again for the rest of our lives,” he whispered. “I love you,” Zuko told her, then leaning in to kiss her, deepening the kiss again as his hand skimmed over her body and a tear escaped from his closed eye.


	57. Chapter 57

Katara melted into the kiss quickly and easily, humming approval with the journey his hands made, parting her lips to seek his tongue when his fingers skimmed along the dip of her waist. She was only dressed in a thin robe. Zuko’s touch was electric through the silk, heating her skin, making her sigh.

She craved him, but unlike the day before, it wasn’t linked to any fear or the deeply-harbored anxiety that she’d lose him. Katara felt safe with him, comforted by him. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to have this moment with him, sheltered in the little world of warmth his body created when he held her. 

Katara slipped closer to him, tugged forward by his hands on her hips. She wrapped arms around his neck, fingers digging into his hair and tugging his head back. Her lips explored his jaw, suckled his pulse, nipped as his ear. 

From there, it was a simple thing of sliding her legs over his and settling in his lap. Her robe fell open, waterfalling around her, and the chair creaked with their combined weight. Zuko only pulled her closer, after the briefest pause in which his eyes roamed her skin. His fingers traced her ribs, then moved to her moved. He held her tight around the waist, bringing her flush to him. She kept her mouth to his ear, whispering  _I love you_  and sweet nothings as she undid his tunic. 

“I said I wanted to wait yesterday.” She tugged his shirt open. Her hands skimmed down his exposed chest, flattening on his taut abdomen. Katara pulled her lips from his collarbone, smiling shyly. “I might’ve changed my mind between now and then… I want you, Zuko.” 

* * *

Every time she touched him, he felt his skin electrified. At the same time, he felt peace. Zuko felt safe with Katara, and warmed from her tender touches and even gentler words. Still yet, while he returned her gestures and words sweetly, he stilled when caught out of breath, and looking in her eyes.

Zuko ran his hands up and down Katara’s arms affectionately. “Are you sure, Kat? You seemed upset yesterday… I don’t want to do anything to damage how we’re coming along,” Zuko whispered, “or hurt you,” Zuko spoke, brushing his nose against hers.

He smiled, though, his breath thick. “I just— I love you, Kat.”

* * *

“I love you, too, Zuko.” She smiled, mimicking how he bumped her nose, then pecked his cheek. “I love you a lot.”

“We don’t have to, okay? If you’re not ready, I won’t push you. You didn’t push me yesterday.” Katara made sure no disappointment showed in her eyes when she retreated from him, pulling her hands from his stomach to clutch her robe shut instead.

She stayed in his lap though, wanting some closeness to him, even if he didn’t wish to continue. It was important to her that Zuko understand she was happy either way; a quiet, happy moment with him was more than enough for her. 

Katara ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, twirling a strand around her finger as she sighed thoughtfully. “I… I wasn’t ready yesterday because I was seeking intimacy for the wrong reasons. I was rattled by Yugoda, unsettled by the distance between us… and I couldn’t see how it’d get any better,” she explained, wearing a sad look. “But, now, I feel like it _will_ get better. I have hope, again, thanks to you.” 

* * *

“Good,” replied Zuko, wearing a warm smile, his hands running down her waist to toy with her robe. “I think so too,” agreed Zuko. “If we keep seeing Yugoda, and keep– opening up,” Zuko continued, “I think, in time, we’ll be good again, back to normal, or a new normal, whichever,” Zuko said with a small smile. “All I wanted was to make sure you were okay,” Explained Zuko. 

He gave her sides a squeeze, and then leaned his forehead up against hers. “Since you are…” he trailed off teasingly, picking her up, and setting her back down on the counter. “I can assure you that I am more than okay with this,” he jested, wearing a flirtatious grin. 

“Things will be fine, Kat, they will,” promised Zuko, leaning in and kissing her again, “I  _promise_ ,” he spoke, between kisses that began to rain down her neck. His hand moved back up her stomach, and at the part in her robe. Zuko hooked one finger at the opening and gently pulled down to part the robe once more, pulling out the loose knot as he laughed against her lips. 

Zuko’s lips then followed down her bare chest as Zuko let out a little sigh. “Spirits, Katara…” Zuko whispered, his hand on her thigh and his mouth to her breast. “You’re so beautiful.”

* * *

A little squeal left her as Zuko picked her up and excitement unfurled in her belly. She’d forgotten this feeling of happiness, this carefree spirit they used to have. Gods be damned, she wasn’t going to fret one more moment. She was going to  _enjoy this_ ; she was going to have her fun. 

Katara relaxed on the cool countertop, her fingers playing gently with Zuko’s hair as she returned his light kisses. Once his lips ventured lower, skimming her sternum, she let out a quiet left, followed by a gasp when her tunic was pushed aside and his mouth reached her breast. 

His tongue was warm and soft, but he’d combat the gentle, tender affection with little nips and tugs. She whined his name, returning the assault by tugging his hair and suckling his neck. She’d leave marks, but Katara wanted that. Everyone would know he was hers, that nothing— not even _the worst-_ – could keep them from one another, a point Zuko seemed bent on reiterating himself. 

He left his own marks on her breasts. The hand on her thigh, the other grabbing at her hip, at her waist, dug in fiercely, hard enough to bruise. And she encouraged it, whispering  _harder, rougher_. Zuko responded by scraping his fingertips up her leg, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep inside her. 

_“God.”_  Katara’s back arched off the counter. Even that made her feel full; she squeezed around him, moaned when she thought of his cock filling her, stretching her. She held his hair tighter and murmured in his ear, “I’m going to be so tight for you, I’m—” 

Zuko bit down on her nipple, cutting her off and making her keen, making her buck her hips in search of some kind of pleasure to combat the short jolt of pain. Her breath was a stutter in her throat. She gasped his name, then sighed long and low when he listened, curling his fingers slowly, slipping them out, back in. 

She was so wet. The sound alone made it obvious; the slick, slippery sounds as his hand worked between her legs. When his fingers ventured up to her clit, they slid through her lips easily, up and down. Zuko found a pattern, kept it up until she was moving in time with him, rolling her hips to find whatever satisfaction she could from his fingers. Until she was panting, shaking—

She was going to come if he didn’t stop. Maybe he knew that, but he didn’t know that Katara wanted to be left there. She wanted to made to beg, wanted to be dripping and aching and pleading when he finally pushed his cock in.

“No. No…” She grabbed his wrist, halted the agonizing circles that had her so very close to the edge. “Tease me more,” Katara whispered, slowly letting his arm go. Her fingers trailed up it, resting on his neck. “Be a little mean, Zuko.” 

* * *

Zuko laughed, amused, by her command. “Mean?” uttered Zuko raspily. “I don’t know how your council manages to be so mean to you, but I suppose I can try,” teased Zuko, a wide, lopsided grin beaming on his face. His eyes were alight with mischief. 

Zuko pushed Katara back against the counter, and put his hands on her waist tightly, pulling her closer to him. He took one hand and pushed the tip of his cock against her clit, sliding it over her slick folds. His cock was throbbing, and the teasing was likely making him ache for her more than she was for him. 

Zuko slowly dragged his hard cock over her entrance, slightly pushing in before pulling himself out again, and leaning in to kiss her, and leaving his cock just barely inside her. His breath was hot and heavy, and his eyelids were droopy with unbearable lust. He let Katara beg and her fingers dug roughly into his back. 

Finally, Zuko gave in, and he roughly shoved his cock inside her, while Katara’s ass pushed against the countertop with a slap. Zuko grunted, and his eyes lulled back in relieved pleasure with a warm, breathy laugh. Her name amidst a slew of swears was the only thing his brain seemed to recall how to render in the moment. 

“Fuck, Kat… you’re so good,” Zuko mumbled into her ear, pulling out before thrusting back in- hard. She felt tight around his pulsating cock, and her walls were sleek and plush surrounding him, making him tremble as his fingers curled at her waist while he tried to steady her to fuck her again– trying to give her just what she wanted, what she’d begged for.

* * *

_“Mmm—”_ A high-pitched whine left her. She thought, while Zuko tortured her, made her hips hitch and legs quiver, that he wasn’t going to fit. It’d been too long. She needed more time, more teasing— it was exactly that, the tease of his cock between her legs, the faint stretch when he barely pushed inside, that had her begging him, craving him. 

When he shoved forward, taking her hard and fast and rough until not even a breath of space remained between their hips, her back curved higher above the counter. Just her hips and shoulders touched, and her fingers clawed at his hair, scraping down his back. Her mouth hung open with a silent scream; her eyes screwed shut tight. 

“Please,” Katara whimpered. He was still, continuing in his relentless torment, relishing the way her sex gripped him. “Zuko, please… please,  _move.”_

All it took was a single thrust— Zuko pulling out so slowly, like he wanted her to feel him slip from her, then forcing his cock deeper, growling— for Katara to begin trembling. He already had her on the brink, within a single stroke of coming, just like she’d asked. Now, her body begged for the release. 

Eyes opening and locking on his, the haze of pure lust she found with the gold made Katara moan. She meant to plead with him, call his name loud enough for the palace to hear, but her gaze raked down him, instead. There was a pink flush spreading over his skin, and the taut muscles in his abdomen glistened with sweat. Thirty-three years old, and yet Katara doubted a younger man could even come close to looking so delectable beside him. His body was fit and toned, kept tight by firebending drills and sword practices; even better was how tight she fit around him. 

Katara watched with desire in her eyes as his cock pulled out of her, saw the tension build in hips and his abs before he pushed back in. His fingers gripped her hips, rough enough to leave bruises that she’d savor in secret, and he found a quick pace that had her keening. She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs and spurred him on. 

“Yes, yes. There. Harder,” she breathed. Her head fell to the counter and she cupped her breasts, squeezing them. “Good, Zuko.  _So good.”_

* * *

With each thrust, and every time Katara’s fingers raked down his back, Zuko grew closer and closer. He met her gaze, her own dazed and full of a hazy blue lust, and a tender smile. Her eyes were full of love, and it only egged him on to push further, deeper, and harder- as she ordered him. She linked her legs around his waist, her heels at his thighs, ensuring her orders were followed through. 

“Fuck-” Zuko cursed with a gasp as she used her ankles to get him deeper inside her slick sex. His breath was quick and his skin was hot. Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as he moaned, capturing her lips to silence his words, but his moans still rattled his throat while he pushed his hips into hers roughly, feeling the familiar burning sensation in his abdomen he’d craved. 

He’d craved this– her– being so close, feeling so good. He could tell Katara was close too. Her gasps of breath, the way she clung to him, crooned his name, and ground her hips against his. 

Zuko put his arm behind Katara’s head on the counter before pulling out slowly– then shoving into her roughly and harder. He did it again, and again, building his pace with shallow grunts. 

“Fuck, Kat, I- I’m so close,” Zuko whispered, dragging his upper lip down her neck with a needy moan. With one more thrust of his hips– Zuko felt his release come inside her. “Kat–” Zuko moaned with a fluttering, airy breath, his forehead rested against hers as a wide, lopsided smile adorned his pleasured face, and his heart thundered. 

His lips ran to her ear, nibbling her earlobe, “I love you,” Zuko mumbled in a rasp, lazy murmur, his heart beginning to still until he heard a snap of the door. 

Zuko jolted, his eyes wide, and the tender aftermath disrupted. 

“…Yue? What… what the fuck?” Zuko spoke, a bright, vibrant red blush starting at his face and overtaking his entire, pale body. He grabbed his pants quickly, getting up from his wife, and hiding behind the counter before sliding them on in humility. She’d seen his bare ass– gotten quite the view, and Agni knew what else. 

Yue’s eyes were filled with tears, and Zuko’s bled with confusion as he glanced between them in Katara’s. He was still flustered and horrified in humility. 

“How could you?” cried Yue, tears streaming down her face. 

“How… how could I what… like… in– in here? Ugh… sorry, um…” Zuko mumbled. 

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Zuko! I thought we had something!” Yue practically screamed. “All men are the same! You’re just like you’re cousin! Maybe it’s a Fire Nation thing, not a man thing! You’re cruel– insensitive, and you– you… you’ve–”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Yue?” Zuko mumbled, truly bewildered. “Look, I didn’t expect anyone to walk in… trust me,” Zuko grumbled, hiding his face, before a proud, pleased smile formed. “But, I’m not gonna  _apologize_  for making love to  _my_   _wife_. I don’t get it, Yue. I… I always told you I loved Katara, I thought we were just friends… Katara’s your best friend? What do you mean? I really don’t… why are we talking about this now!? Get– get out of here! We’re fucking naked, Yue!”

* * *

Naturally, Katara wasn’t allowed even a moment of reprieve or peace with her husband. Sure, it  _was_  a common room and they ran the risk of being seen, but it wasn’t the first time they’d done this and wouldn’t be the last time a servant or two quietly moved on from the sounds or sights of sex. 

Whoever was there was clearly new or stupid— She sat up as Zuko scrambled for his pants and her question was answered. The intruder was  _stupid._

Katara lost any concern for her own modesty as anger boiled hot and violent under her skin.  _Yue;_  the source of her private insecurities, the reason she’d been fretting until Zuko had her robe open and his lips trailing her neck. And,  _damn,_ the girl was so fucking stupid. 

Tears building, sobs cracking—  _I thought we had something!_ Yue shouted. 

It wasn’t even possible to for Katara to feel pity, not anymore, not when she’d finally returned to the security and stability she found in her marriage. Yue thought she’d,  _what?_ Tear it apart? Break a bond that was founded in ten, long, hard, beautiful, loving years? 

Jealous possession coated Katara’s snarl, “My husband is loyal to  _me_ , Yue. And I think it’s time for you to leave. Why  _haven’t_ you gone home yet?“ It was a petty, cruel question, matched by harsh eyes. “Go back to your Tribe, Princess, and get out of mine.” 

* * *

Zuko put a hand on Katara’s back- sending a message to both women about who had claim on his heart, mind, body, and soul. He truly thought that she was on the same page— they were friends. Zuko didn’t know she’d harbodered such feelings for him. If he had, he would have cut things off— sooner. He would now.

He was stunned, though, when Katara banished her. Yue seemed to be too, and it was written on her face. “Katara… please,” choked Yue, more tears fell. “We’ve been friends since we were two. Forgive me, please,” Yue cried. “My father will deem me a failure. He’ll think I’m some slut who couldn’t please her man, so he went elsewhere. He already blames me for the death of my son,” cried Yue. “And, my baby is so happy here… he just got settled,” Yue pleaded.

“He loves his cousins… he has friends, he’s taking on tutoring,” Yue said in a desperate whisper. “Katara— I’m begging you,” Yue whimpered, she looked like a mess.

Zuko left it between the two women. He would personally cut ties, but this? This was between a queen and her refugee subject. Zuko looked aside, but kept his hand on Katara’s back possessively, massaging her shoulder.

 


	58. Chapter 58

“Oh, how predictable,” Katara growled as she slipped from the counter. She collected her robe from the floor and pulled it around her shoulders, spinning on Yue. “Make me the bad guy, hmm? The cruel one? While you stand there and  _cry_  because a husband fucked his wife?” 

She blinked rapidly, letting it sink into Yue’s skin how idiotic she was. “Friends don’t develop feelings for each other’s spouses. And, unless they’re delusional, they certainly don’t announce such feelings!” 

The hurt in her voice needed to be reigned in. Katara swallowed, fighting the encroaching tightness in her chest. She might’ve had her suspicions and her worries, but having it spelled out for her— and Zuko wasn’t entirely innocent, if Yue truly believed there was a relationship between them. He  _wasn’t_ innocent in this— that hurt. That burned her lungs, her throat, her eyes. 

Even worse, the pain this betrayal inflicted. Her friend and her husband, clearly close enough that Yue felt strong enough in their bond to barge into an intimate moment. Katara battled the countless emotions that carried and glared across the room. 

“Just get out, Yue,” she said. “You can stay here—I’d be a heartless bitch otherwise— but, I don’t want to see you.”

* * *

Yue looked around the room slowly, her gaze meeting Zuko’s first, then sliding to Katara’s. She felt foolish in her outburst, but also more invigorated in her anger. She felt self-righteous, and angry at the world. Her husband had another family, her husband cheated on her, her husband had kids with another, her son was dead– Katara had an amazing life. Katara had a loving, devoted husband. Katara threw him away, her treaty spouse, the same way Lu Ten had to her. Yue’s anger shifted from Zuko to Katara, then. Be damned if she got sent back home.

“You know… I lied to you earlier,” Yue admitted, her voice dropping to a cool, cruel calm. “Zuko didn’t say any of those things. It was just me. I thought them. I still do,” Yue spoke, tears building angrily in her eyes again. “That man loves you… and what did you do? You left his heart to rot!” Spat Yue, her own pain from her husband’s betrayal channeling through. 

“Zuko does everything for you– he loves you, he’s there for your children, he supports you, he’s loyal to you, he’s a good man! How do you repay him? By letting your council shit on you and fucking your ex boyfriend and having his baby! Tui and La know what else! You did it so easily, the way Lu Ten did, it couldn’t have been the first time, you– you  _whore_!” shouted Yue, tears streaming down her face as she crumbled– the suppressed weight of Lu Ten’s treatment, and her son’s murder. 

“And Zuko, grow a fucking spine!” shouted Yue. “Katara… she must’ve let the power get to her head or something. The Katara I knew would never reduce her husband to… to a thing,” Yue snarled. “It’s like the council said when she annulled the treaty. I was at the meeting, while she was off fucking her new husband without the paperwork,” she slung. “You’re nothing anymore. You’re just a means of cheap sex, but even that the chieftess gets elsewhere. You have no heirs, you serve no purpose for world peace, you’ve been replaced as a spouse, you’re hardly even the chief’s co-reigning spouse anymore… you don’t father the heir. To this country… to Katara, you’re nothing. You’re as much of a fucking fool as I was to turn a blind eye to that,” Yue spat, her chest heaving as she breathed quickly, struggling to keep any composure. She was a wreck. 

Zuko watched her, shocked by her outburst. He swallowed thickly, shook his head, and chewed on his lip. “Yue, I… I won’t– can’t let you talk about Katara like that,” Zuko stated firmly. “You’re making up… I don’t even know what kind of lies to my wife… and… and don’t you fucking dare talk about Katara like that ever again,” Zuko threatened coldly. 

“Friends don’t make up lies, disrespect your marriage– overstep that boundary you have with your wife… disparage your wife, disparage you— I’m sorry all those things happened to you, Yue. Really, I am. But, that gives you no right to barge into my life, and my marriage, and act like you know anything about–” Zuko ranted, catching his breath, too angry and tired to care to humor her any longer.

“I agree with Katara… just… just get the hell out of my sight, Yue. I don’t want to see you, either.”

* * *

What felt like eternity ticked by before Yue took Zuko’s threat seriously. Tears poured off the woman’s cheeks, but her nose was stuck up high, righteous as she felt in her anger. She turned on her heel and left the dining area. 

In her absense, Katara sensed her own fury rise. 

“Are you serious?” she hissed. “It this  _seriously_ the situation I’m in?” Cinching her robe tighter, Katara jerked her fingers through her hair, then balled them up to make fists. Her knuckles dug into her hips. “My best friend thought that my husband—” 

She snorted. “This whole time you’ve been claiming to be innocent, Zuko. So innocent, in fact, that when I came in here half an hour ago with my permission and forgiveness if you wanted to have an affair, you said no! Why didn’t just— You could’ve—  _Ugh!”_

_“This entire time,”_ Katara shouted. “You’ve been burying me beneath so much weight, so much guilt, and—” She shook her head. She felt right on the verge of tears, but Katara fought them off. “If a woman thinks you have feelings for her, Zuko, you’re not innocent. Whatever you did, whatever you said to her… do you know who _is_  innocent?” 

Her fingertips stabbed her own chest. “Me. You’ve been trying to point the finger at me with your insecurity and your jealousy, but Tonraq doesn’t believe that I feel anything for him. He was a servant to a queen. And, that’s been explicitly clear from the beginning. He  _knows_ I feel nothing nothing towards him. He  _knows_  I love you, no matter what we face. ”

“In fact, you could ask him,” she suggested, going to the door. Katara pulled it open, holding for it for him and gesturing into the hall flippantly. “Go on, Zuko. Ask him what’s going on between us and maybe,  _finally_ , the shame you’ve thrust upon me will dissipate. Go find him.  _ **Go!** ” _

* * *

“What?” cried Zuko, shaking his head, distraught. “Yue’s insane!” Zuko shouted. “I don’t feel a thing for her! The only thing I ever went on about was you– and how I loved you!” Zuko yelled. “I don’t want an affair! I never wanted an affair!” Zuko screamed. “I don’t! I don’t have any feelings for Yue! Why the fuck can I not be friends with someone of an opposite gender?” Zuko spat in frustration.

“I never pointed any fingers at you! I wasn’t mad! I was never angry! I was hurt, and upset… at what was going on! Not  _at_  you! This isn’t  _fair_!” Zuko shouted. “I’ve been worried, and… and I’ve had insecurities, and jealousy, but from the get go, I trusted you with this. I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt at every turn!” Zuko yelled, getting upset. He was furious at Yue, and didn’t know why she thought such stupid things, anyway. “It was hard, and I struggled, and worried, but I still sat here while my wife went off and fucked another man, and had an entire week of down time with a man she used to love– a man she fucking almost married, and I believed you were true to your word, that you didn’t sleep beside him, or kiss him, or hold him– because I love you, I trusted you with that!” Zuko shouted. 

“But, Yue– who… who… I’m the only person she’s had to lean on the past months since her husband abandon her and treat her like shit, and her son got murdered… no wonder she thought I loved her! No one else listened to a fucking thing she said! She was all alone! All I did was spend time with her, and talk to her. I do the same thing with Pakku for Agni’s sake, I’m not in love with him, either!” Zuko yelled. 

“I have nothing to say to Tonraq,” Zuko grumbled flippantly, blowing it off. “Even if he did think so, what… is he going to admit it to your husband? ‘Oh, yes, Zuko, the thing you’ve been worrying about sick the past several months, that your wife might catch feelings for me, that’s one hundred percent true! Glad you asked!” Zuko sarcastically grumbled back. 

“Yue just said that I love you, too. Why doesn’t that count for anything? Why do you just… think that this is true? This isn’t fair, Kat. It’s not fair that because of Yue’s breakdown, you think that I have feelings for her– and I don’t get any benefit of the doubt, but you just expect me to sit by and not have any worries that you might have resurfaced feelings for a man you once loved, almost married, are having sex with, and having a child with,” Zuko growled, his voice cracking. 

“None of this about Yue is true– she misunderstood…  _everything_. And, none of this is fair,” Zuko spoke, swallowing thickly. 

He was hurt now. Yue’s outburst and misdirected conclusions had Katara thinking he was a cheater. He’d done nothing but stood by her this entire time, and now she was throwing her faith in him to the dust in a matter of seconds. “You’re carrying that man’s baby as we speak,” Zuko stated, looking up to hold back tears. “And… innocent? Only our kids are, but… I never… I  _never_ thought you did this on purpose, or… went looking to hurt me, or have an affair… or deceive me. I knew you’d never do something like that to me. But, you have such little faith in me, and you’re so quick to turn around and…” Zuko shook his head, biting his lip. 

“If I made you feel guilty, I’m sorry. That was never my intention,” Zuko stated sincerely, but he was still angry, at least on the surface. The anger was a burial for hurt. “I was hurt– and jealous… and if you feel that way about Yue, I understand. But, I don’t think it’s fair for you to ask me to believe you when you say nothing is going on, and then refuse to give me the same benefit of the doubt because, Agni, I swear to Agni that there was never anything between us… or from me, anyway. She clearly had other ideas, but she never said a word, or acted like it, and I never thought of her as more than a sister to me. There was absolutely nothing romantic between us, and… if you won’t  _trust_  me, and Yue’s gone off the wall… I don’t know  _how_  to prove it to you.”

* * *

She wanted to scream:  _You can say all you want that you’ve never pointed a finger at me, but listen to yourself!_ Katarawas listening. She was absorbing every word, letting the knife pierce deeper and twist, allowing the poison to slip into her bloodstream. 

_My wife went off and fucked another man, and had an entire week of down time with a man she used to love– a man she fucking almost married!_

Zuko resented her. That was it. It was so blatantly obvious—

_You just expect me to sit by and not have any worries that you might have resurfaced feelings for a man you once loved, almost married, are having sex with, and having a child with?_

—how had Katara not seen it? 

Everything he listed was actively present. Might  _have_ feelings for.  _Having_ sex with.  _Having_  a child with. Everything he said was twisted to be her current situation, so he could cling to the blame, fling it in her face. Zuko looked at the wounds she was trying to heal and tore them open, deliberately:

_You’re carrying that man’s baby as we speak._

Katara pulled her eyes up from the floor with that, glared at him, fury raging in her blood and her blood raging in her ears. She could hear her heartbeat, feel the hard thud of it against her sternum and the flood of adrenaline it pumped through her veins. It was a defense, really. Her body was trying to fend off the obvious pain cracking the ice in her blue eyes.

Not a single word was said to fight him, to combat the resentment, the past Zuko held onto until it suited him. And he wondered why she kept such secrets close to her chest? Why she harbored her worries and stories from him? He’d given forgiveness, then stolen it back.

Katara shook her head. The door she held open for him swung shut as she left the room instead. This was it. 

She was done. 

 


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sucks to be all y'all who hate on tonraq for no reason byeeeee

Zuko was stunned speechless when Katara simply glared, and then left. His boiling anger settled to a quiet hurt, and fear. Katara always fought back. She’d sometimes storm off when they fought, but she’d ensured she got in the last word. He knew that well enough from the past ten years. Not that the past ten years they’d fought very much– what he presumed was a normal amount for people who live together. They’d fought more in the past couple months than the prior ten years. But, Zuko knew how she fought. He knew it well. 

There was something finite in the way she stormed out. There was something that made goosebumps rise in his skin, and his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He felt small instantly, and wanted to retract every word. Did she really think he had something with Yue? Was that it? He shouldn’t have been so harsh with it. He should’ve assured her better that it wasn’t so. He only loved Katara. He only ever would–  _could_. 

Zuko swallowed thickly, and swept at his eyes defiantly. He was sick of tears. He was scared. Zuko was terrified. They’d made such progress today. He was so confident that things were only on the up and up, and now they seemed all regressed– if not, destroyed. How could this have happened? How cold Yue storm in and sweep this away? Zuko hated her in that moment. He wished bitterly she’d never come, now. That was selfish, he knew, but right now, he didn’t care. He was afraid. 

He knew she didn’t want him to follow her. She needed to blow off steam, and usually he grumbled, and went to blow off his own and then they’d return, and make up, and that was that. But, this didn’t feel right, and Zuko was terrified. He tried to assuage himself as he paced the floor, but his head wouldn’t shut up.

Zuko didn’t want to hurt Katara. Hurting her was the last thing he ever wanted– seeing her hurt, simply was the last thing he wanted. He was supposed to be the one she leaned on to help take that away, not cause it. Zuko sighed, wracking his hands still nervously, and praying she’d still show up to their session with Yugoda in an hour. 

Zuko put on the rest of his clothes, and grabbed his coat before stepping through the breezeway, or as Zuko joked with Katara, and only Katara with this one of their inside jokes, that it was the freezeway. Zuko smiled fondly, but somberly as he thought of it going through. What he didn’t expect was to see Tonraq there, leaning on a post, bending absentmindedly. Zuko hated him more than Yue. He rolled his eyes, but leaned on the post beside him. 

Zuko used his breath of fire to puff in his hands to warm them before stuffing them in his pockets. He wondered if Tonraq saw Katara storm out, what he thought of it. Zuko could only guess. “I bet you think I don’t deserve her… you’d treat her better than I ever could,” Zuko mumbled, the wind muffling his voice, but not to the point of deafness. “You’re half right. No man alive is deserving of Katara. Right now… I don’t know, you might be right about the latter, too. I’ve been fucking up a lot, lately. I don’t want to… I don’t mean to… things seem better, good, again… like we always were for years… so naturally, we were so happy this whole time. Not perfect, obviously… who is? But, we were good. We were so happy, in general, of course, not without tribulations, but… in general, fuck, it was effotless… it was… like you said, about the Spirits,” Zuko whispered, saying it in a tone that indicated he’d forgotten those words. He was too upset to register them then, and they were just sinking in now.

“Like… like it was meant to be,” Zuko spoke softly, sadly. “But, now…? We get to a good place again, and I… I fuck it up. I hurt her- again. I used to dry her tears… and she dried mine. Now, I cause them. I don’t want that. I… She’s my whole world, her and our kids… and… I love Katara, she’s my best friend, and… I can’t lose her. I can’t… and I… fuck, I don’t know why the fuck I just came up to you of all fucking people, and started talking to you like you’re Yugoda,” Zuko said with a hearty, real laugh, though the sadness remained laced. He pressed his mittens Katara made for him against his eyes, and sighed. 

“I guess I just figure you know Katara a lot better than Yugoda,” Zuko spoke tiredly, “But… I’m sorry I just… threw all that baggage at you… I don’t know. You’re just… the only one besides us two that knows everything, but you’re not in it. You’re biased, I know that, but… if I’m going to see what I’m doing wrong, you being biased… and I want to be on Katara’s side. I’m not against her. I’m for her. I need to… I need to leave you alone, Tonraq. I know we’re not crazy about each other, but I really should not have bothered you. Pretend I said nothing, I- I’ll leave you be. Thanks for… not having punched me throughout that whole thing because I might have if things were reversed.”

* * *

 

He’d been waiting the better part of an hour for an audience with Katara, so when the Chieftess passed by him with nothing more than a blank stare and Zuko approached a short time later, Tonraq instinctively braced a dirty look or, at worst, a snide remark about  _his_ wife. What he didn’t expect, was the Prince coming directly to him, leaning against the same column as him, and sharing more than he probably should’ve with his wife’s ex-lover. 

In a way, Zuko’s confessions made things fall into place, specifically, the look in Katara’s eyes when she’d left the palace without so much as a coat or a scarf. It made him angry at first, listening to Zuko ramble about his personal failings while remembering her face. But, as the Prince turned to go, something softened in his chest and, perhaps for no other reason than to know Katara would be happy again, Tonraq reached for Zuko’s arm, stopping him before he left. 

_“I_ know Katara?” he asked, disbelief in his tone. “Prince Zuko,  _you_  know Katara better than any of us.”

Tonraq pulled his hand back from the firebender. There was a note of frustration in his limbs, tension. He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to assuage it, before he spoke again. 

“Zuko…” A calm, sobering breath left him, along with a silent pray that Zuko wouldn’t make good on his promise to hit him. “Your wife… Katara… she doesn’t love you how she loved me.” His eyes flicked up from the snow to study the man’s pale face. Tonraq licked his lips. “I… I  _know_ she loved me. She didn’t say it out loud, but she… she’d tell me she needed me. She’d pace around her room on nights I was due back from excursions. Those things felt like love. And… and she trusted me, physically and a little with her emotions, but that’s the thing, Prince Zuko.”

He’d spread his hands to show he meant no harm, that he was only telling Zuko this so the truth would click. “It was really physical. And, the emotions we did share only came  _when_  it was physical. I didn’t have the Katara that felt safe in silence and stillness. I never saw the Katara that preferred to curl up in my lap with a cup of tea or dance with no music.”

“She’s only that way with you, because of you. She lights up at the mention of your name, Zuko. She talks about you constantly. She defends you and praises you and… Katara loves you more than anything.” Tonraq said. “I might’ve had little pieces of her heart once, but Zuko, Tui and La picked you. She obeyed them. She gave her whole heart to you. And, I wish you could see that. I wish you would cherish that.” 

Tonraq’s hands dropped, settling on his hips. He looked at the snow-covered ground. “I understand your anger, though. I do. I know what it is to love someone so completely and feel like they’ll never give you every part of them, but…” He felt emotion creeping into his voice and he took a deep breath to cover it. “She’s afraid, Zuko. She’s afraid of losing you. She would do anything to keep you, anything to earn your forgiveness. Let her have it.  _Please._ ” 

* * *

Zuko was shocked when Tonraq replied not with a fist to his face, but with understanding. Not only did he not just let him leave, Tonraq was answering him, with advice, and kindness… not just about Katara, but to him. Zuko was shocked when Tonraq didn’t point any fingers or show resentment towards him. Zuko felt Tonraq was a much bigger person than he could ever be, then. He knew his hatred of him was petty and out of jealousy, but this just reminded him. He felt foolish, not that he was angry at all, but that he held onto it, and let it linger if only for pettiness’ sake.

His words were genuine and raw, and made his chest ache with guilt for what he did to Katara. Tonraq was right, unequivocally  _right_. Katara loved him, and he knew it. Katara loved him so much, and he felt it every day he got out of bed. What kind of husband- person- was he if he didn’t ensure she felt the same? -When he  _felt_  so irrevocably the same?

Zuko felt tears rise to the surface, and he worried he may have soiled everything. “I’m afraid too. I would do anything to keep her. I love her more than anything,” Zuko stated in a whisper to hide the breaking in his voice that crackled up in his throat. “I’ve… I’ve already forgiven her, though. She’s apologized more than enough times, and… I know this wasn’t her choice. She never wanted to hurt me,” Zuko insisted. “She has my forgiveness, Tonraq. I don’t know what else to do, and I’m terrified now that it’s too late. I can’t– I  _cannot_  lose her. I’d do  _ **anything**_.”

* * *

“You’ll have to forgive  _me_ , then, Prince Zuko, because I don’t believe Katara does.” Tonraq set his lips in firm line, looking squarely at the firebender before breaking their gaze. 

He rubbed his temples with a thumb and forefinger, trying to pick his words with care. He started slowly, “I’ve witnessed three of her heartbreaks. First, when she came home from the war front, grieving Sokka’s death. Second, when Aliya was born and the adoptive parents came. Katara watched from the bed she’d birthed Aliya in as her child was taken away. The last one was when her father died.” 

Tonraq pinched his eyes before dropping his hand. “Remembering that day’s easy. The nation, collectively, lost someone important, but Katara, she lost the last of her family… after fighting all night to keep him alive.” 

“I remember when the ships left for the Fire Nation…” He shook his head slightly and looked at the ground. “Katara had this look. She thinks no one else can see it. It’s… it’s like the world around her is breaking apart. She’s trying desperately to hold all the pieces together and she’ll cling to whatever she can. For the past ten years, that’s been you.” 

He lifted his gaze, not looking at Zuko, but off in the direction he’d seen Katara take. “Before you joined me, I saw her leave,” Tonraq said. “Zuko, she wore the expression of someone who’s entire world had _shattered._  And, the only reason it would do that…” His nostrils flared before he looked at the firebender again. “I’ll bet my life it has everything to do with you.” 

* * *

“I know the look,” Zuko admitted quietly. His face fell to think of it. He remembered how she look when Hakoda was murdered. He could never forget how pained she looked. Zuko wished he could wipe that vision from his memory, it was so painful. Perhaps, that was precisely why he had to remember it.

Did she not believe it? Didn’t he forgive her? He told her so, over and over. He told her he knew that she hadn’t much choice. He understood. Those were true. It still tugged at his heart like a ton of bricks, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t forgiven. Right?

Zuko’s face fell in worry. He wanted to be angry at Tonraq, but what was the reason to. If Tonraq wanted to berate him, he could easily go off. But, his words, even painful, were said in a way of advice. Zuko wanted to be offended, or punch him in the jaw, but he was scared Tonraq was right.

“I don’t… you don’t… you don’t know anything,” Zuko stated, his voice cracking despite himself. He did not want Tonraq to see him falter. Zuko coughed to fake clearing his throat, to no avail. “You don’t know our marriage, our kids… you… I have to go. Yugoda is waiting for us.”

Despite his words, Zuko couldn’t get Tonraq’s out of his head. He sat silently in the sofa in Yugoda’s room, and prayed Katara would show up. The more time passed, the more frenzied looks he’d give Yugoda. Zuko was nervously tapping his foot, and wringing his hands, and he only realized he was holding a breath, when it shakily exhaled upon Katara’s entrance.


	60. Chapter 60

Entering Yugoda’s cozy room should’ve come as a relief. Since their session yesterday, and until an hour ago, they’d made some progress. Naturally, it’d all gone to shit like the rest of the good things in her life. Katara sat as far from Zuko on the couch as possible, the same, dead expression in her eyes. 

Yugoda regarded the couple carefully, her face kind, but gaze discerning. After a moment, she licked her lips and said with a sigh, “A number of painful things were brought to light yesterday. A lot of defenses were weakened, especially for Katara. Have you had the opportunity to discuss these with your husband, Chieftess?

Glancing surreptitiously at Zuko— his attention was cast in her direction, though his eyes held worry— Katara lifted her shoulders with a shrug. 

“We talked a little last night; more today,” she said. “I’ve tried to be more open about what I’m thinking or feeling, but…” A derisive snort left her. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours even, so if you were expecting some magical turn-around… _sorry._ ” 

“I’m not expecting anything, Katara. My only hope is healing,” Yugoda smiled, “in both of you.” She turned her focus on Zuko. “Everyone needs the opportunity to bring their walls down when confronted with a situation such as this. If I’m being honest, Prince Zuko, your walls are more easily crumbled, so we can start with your thoughts while Katara uses the time relax, if you’d like?” 

Busying herself with pouring tea, Yugoda prompted him, “Tell me how you feel about the conversations you’ve had with your wife since we last spoke.” 

* * *

Katara couldn’t have been further away from him on the couch. It made Zuko’s chest ache, and he was afraid his heart was worn far too close to the edge of his sleeve by the way Yugoda was regarding him. He could feel it, and it made his skin burn. 

Zuko swallowed thickly as Yugoda spoke to Katara, then turned to him, claiming he was less closed off. Zuko anxiously twisted the ring on his finger, his gaze drifting worriedly between Katara and Yugoda. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety. All he could think about was how Katara could leave him. He felt like crying, and felt pathetic for it. Yugoda saw it too. He was weak, though maybe she just meant weaker than Katara. Most people were. She was the strongest person he’d ever met.

Zuko took a deep breath to compose himself, then sighed. “I… I felt good,” Zuko answered honestly. “I mean, I’m not as dumb as everyone here seems to think. I know things were still… unideal, but, I felt like we were getting somewhere, and things were on the up and up,” Zuko explained. “Katara told me she felt the same way, and… we were sharing a good moment together. We took our daughter to see a show, then today, we were having a nice time together,” Zuko told her.

“We knew there was work to be done, but we… we were feeling good about the future. It was only a few hours ago that… well… um… our friend, Yue, interrupted a moment we were having,” Zuko treaded carefully. “She came in… crying, and… she was- or is- married to my cousin, who treated her horribly, and her son was murdered… but she was crying, saying she… she loved me… and… she had this notion I… I felt something for her, too. But, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“I never had feelings for Yue. Even though it’s been really hard, I only ever had eyes for Katara. I only ever wanted her. When Yue came here with her son, I befriended her. I never had any idea she felt that way about me, and I certainly would never have told her anything to give her an impression I liked her… and Yue is Katara’s best friend. I never would have thought she’d… and… I don’t know. I love Katara… I’d never betray her like that, no matter how difficult things were,” Zuko stated, his voice getting more cracked and emotional as he went on. 

“I think that… that threw us back… we got into a nasty fight right before this… and… I don’t know. I’m sorry, Kat. But, I swear… there was nothing going on from my side, at least, with Yue. She was a good friend, but… Pakku was too. I thought we were just hanging out… if I’d known she’d felt that way, I would have ended the friendship.”

* * *

“I know you’re sorry, Zuko,” Katara cast a sidelong glance down the couch, quickly pulling her eyes away when she found his. Heat colored her cheeks. “You’ve said that already. You apologize all the time.” She looked up at Yugoda, too, catching a watchful expression on the woman’s face.

“Does that bother you, Katara?”

She crossed her arms. “Does what?”  

“Zuko’s apologies,” Yugoda prompted. She held a cup of tea out to Katara, forcing the Chieftess to give up her defensive pose.

“No, it’s…” Katara shrugged with the tea cup, her eyes on the hot, amber liquid. “I don’t know. I appreciate that he cares. I don’t always _need_ an apology, but he gives them, and… It—it’s nice.”

“Do you doubt his sincerity then?”

Katara faltered. “No…?” Another glance to her left, and she caught Zuko staring down at his lap, his hands clenching his thighs.  “No, I believe him, it was just…”

She tried to avoid answering, but Yugoda raised a brow at Katara’s silence, holding her gaze to keep the focus there, on Katara’s pause. It made her huff irritably; made her words come out with an edge.  

“Yue didn’t walk in on _a moment._ We were fucking,” she snapped, discarding her tea, arms crossed again. “Zuko hadn’t even pulled out of me yet and she barges in, accusing him of leading her on. _We really had something,_ Yue said. I’m sorry that made me uncomfortable, Zuko, and I’m sorry I snapped.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but?’” Yugoda led.

A slight roll of her eyes put Katara’s gaze on the ceiling. She fought down her temper for a breath or two; even still, “Am I allowed to have a but? Isn’t everything before dragon shit?”

“If sharing will help you and Zuko learn…”

Glaring for another second, she unfolded her arms with a sigh. That defeated feeling was rising up, taking prominence over her anger, beating it out. The glint in Zuko’s eyes, when he’d listed everything he told her he’d forgiven, when _You’re carrying that man’s baby as we speak_ came from his lips— Katara couldn’t bring her gaze up from her lap. 

“I just—“ She pursed her lips, shifting. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for _everything._ That’s all.”

* * *

Zuko looked at Yugoda before looking over to Katara. His heart ached in his chest, and he longed to reach over to her all the way over on the other side of the couch, and comfort her. But, she looked like the last thing she wanted was to be touched by him. So Zuko sat there, running his palms up and down his legs, and squeezing his knees. 

“Kat… you’ve said sorry too, so many times,” Zuko whispered. “You don’t have to anymore,” Zuko stated, shaking his head. “Please, I don’t want you to keep feeling guilty,” he whispered, chewing his bottom lip before sighing. 

“I… I shouldn’t have freaked out at you. It was fair, totally fair, that you were freaked out by what Yue said,” Zuko stated. “She shouldn’t have been in there, and interrupted us, and said that,” Zuko agreed, “You had every right to snap based on what Yue said… I should’ve just– I should’ve calmly told you that I didn’t feel anything for her. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad… I felt… accused, and– I… who wouldn’t be upset? You had every right to react the way you did, and… it wasn’t unwarranted,” Zuko conceded. 

“It just— the idea of you believing that- and her… upset me. The last thing I want is for you to doubt how I feel, and where I lie, and… I just… you were accusing me, and I got angry, and upset and I overreacted instead of just… talking,” Zuko tried to explain.

He took a deep breath, then chanced another glance at his wife hesitantly. “I… I ran into Tonraq on the way out,” Zuko spoke carefully. “And… he said some things that I’ve been thinking about… really hard,” Zuko told her. "He told me you looked heartbroken… like when you lost your brother, and Hakoda,” Zuko murmured carefully, “And… you just… you didn’t say anything, when we were fighting, you just… walked off. That’s not like you,” Zuko said with a bit of a laugh, though tears were quickly blocking his vision. “You always tell me off,” Zuko said, cracking a small, lopsided grin. He shook his head, then, somberly, “But… not this time, and… I’m worried, Kat… I want to talk… I… I want to fix this… please, tell me… is it Yue? Do you think… do you think I did something? Because, I swear to La I didn’t. What… what is it?”

* * *

“I… didn’t see the point to shouting more. All we do is shout and… yelling at you isn’t going to change anything,” she said, gaze flickering between him and the floor. 

Katara tried to keep her thoughts from souring further, but her head wrapped around the mention of Tonraq and she scowled. “And, now you’re talking with my _baby daddy?_ ” She pulled her eyes up, lips pressed into a thin line as hurt flashed across her face. “About… _me?_ You finally believe I’m heartbroken after speaking to him?” 

“Tonraq doesn’t know me, Zuko, not beyond my body. And, even then, it’s over. Emotionally, it’s been over for years. This situation wasn’t something I planned or wanted and I—” A sliver of fear ran through her. Another fight could be coming, another battle. If Zuko talked to Tonraq and only took away from it that Tonraq could read her face… there’d be more shouting, more apologizing, more lingering resentment. She’d keep up the charade of marriage for her children, but Katara couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —endure the lists of her sins over and over again.

Her eyes glazed over in worry, only sharpening into focus when Yugoda said her name quietly, “Katara… you’re far off. Where’d you go?”

“I’m right here,” she looked at the woman, protesting.

“Physically, yes, but in your head…” Yugoda looked expectant, but when Katara held her tongue, steadfast and stubborn, the older woman prodded her. “If you can’t tell your husband, tell me. Zuko will only listen, passively.”

A beat passed before Katara looked at Zuko. Then, another went by, and she stared down at the floor again, wringing her hands in her lap. “I don’t know. I— I want to hear what Tonraq said. I want to hear what _Zuko’s_ thinking before I answer anything.”

* * *

Zuko looked at her hesitantly. He took a deep breath, and bit his lip. “When you stormed out… without a word, it scared me,” admitted Zuko. “You never do that, so to me… it felt… final,” Zuko whispered. “I was scared I might have lost you,” Zuko admitted, his lip then quivering, as he worked to steady his breath and keep his voice unwavering.

“I knew already you were hurt, Katara… when you stormed out, I went out a few minutes later the same way, and Tonraq was there,” Zuko stated. “So… I just felt so… defeated, we started talking. He told me he saw you run out, and said you looked really broken… heartbroken, like he’d only seen you twice before,” Zuko stated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So it just made me think, and… made me afraid,” Zuko whispered. “I don’t want you, my wife, to think I was unfaithful to you,” Zuko explained. “I’m afraid… that’s what you think, and that’s why you’re so hurt,” Zuko stated. “I don’t know,” Zuko said quietly. “Then… he asked me if I forgave you, and I told him of course I did,” Zuko stated, a tear escaping despite himself. “I love you… of course I’ll forgive you. Every time.”

“And, me… I’m sorry too. I— you’re not the… I’m at fault too. I just— I wish we could throw this behind us easier. I want to. I can’t _lose_ you, Kat. You’re my whole _world_.”

* * *

Half a beat passed silently, then Katara’s gaze pulled up from her lap with a bout of anger and she turned on her husband. “Do you resent the world, too? Do you list all her wrongs no matter many ways she’s tried to make them up to you?” Her eyes locked on Zuko’s bright gold, hurt flashing though them. 

“I was wrong to snap at you,” she admitted. “I was wrong to assume you were having an affair— I’m not even sure that’s what I thought. I was… I was upset that Yue grew close enough to you to _think_ there was something, but I never believed you did it on purpose.” Katara said, head tilting slightly after a slow, audible breath. “And yet…”

An air of disappointment entered her voice, of haughty disapproval. It was the same tone she felt from him whenever their conversations touched on her past or Tonraq. “You have this holier than thou complex, Zuko.” 

“Since the process of conceiving began, you’ve lorded it over my head, subconsciously blaming me, accusing me.” She pursed her lips, letting her words sink in. Zuko tried to speak, but Yugoda tutted, keeping him quiet while Katara wrapped her mouth around her thoughts. 

“In every fight we have, you tote around my sins like you’re ready to etch them into my skin. You list everything, again and again, in as many variations as possible— _I fucked him. I loved him. I was going to marry him. I’m carrying his baby as we speak,”_ Katara recalled his phrasing. “I’ll be honest, it wasn’t right for me to keep my life with Tonraq from you, but I never lied, Zuko, not even on our wedding night. Tonraq never heard from my lips that I loved him. Sometimes I wonder if I really did, or if he was simply an escape, a safe place, from my memories and the bad dreams.” 

“But, so what if I did?” she challenged, folding her arms over her chest. “So what if I planned to marry him? So what if he knew about my first pregnancy? I ended our courtship the moment I was betrothed to you. _Months_ before your arrival… And, I’ve been faithful _since_. I chose you, Zuko. I’ve continued to do so every day, even through this, but if you won’t truly forgive me…” She grit her teeth, jaw hard and tense. “If you’re going to resent me, if you’re going to list everything I’ve done wrong, I’ll remain your wife for the children, but this _will not_ be a marriage.” 

* * *

Zuko listened to her speak, but his gaze wandered off while she talked. His eyes left hers, and went to his shoes, where his toes were brushing each other nervously to busy himself while he was forced to swallow this bitter pill. His hands fidgeted too while he took it all in, and waited for the pill to kick in. 

As she shouted, and went on, it then did slowly and finally dawn on Zuko. His eyes flickered from one foot to the other as he thought of all the things he’d shouted in anger, which stemmed from hurt, over the past months. He’d been holding onto this, despite having mentally let it go. He was clinging to it bitterly in his heart, and Katara could feel it… and it wasn’t all right, not at all. Guilt settled in his stomach as he realized that was what he had to do. He had to take the pent up frustrations and forgive them, let them go, and fully relinquish his worries to her, openly and honestly, without resentment. 

Tears pooled in Zuko’s eyes as he thought of the cruel and harsh things he’d spat when she was already guilt-laden. She’d been nothing but sorry and apologetic the entire time, and guilty herself. He hadn’t helped. He’d told her he’d let it go, and he thought he had, but it was still leeching at his heart. 

Finally, Zuko moved his eyes off his shoes, and to Katara’s wavering blues. He was frightened by what she said– about leaving him in all but body and it made his throat go tight with emotion. He tried to shake it out when he spoke, but his voice cracked by the first syllable. 

“You’re… you’re right,” whispered Zuko, using the back of his hand to swipe at his cheek. “I… I was… I am… holding onto it. I said… horrible things, and threw it in your face,” Zuko admitted, “I didn’t even know I was doing it, but… that doesn’t make it okay, not at all,” Zuko said, hesitating before taking her hand gently, and giving it a desperate squeeze. 

“I’m so sorry,” Zuko told her, “I didn’t know I was holding onto this anger… because I told myself– in my head, I knew it wasn’t your fault, and I was so hurt, but I knew you never wanted to hurt me, but… I’ve been keeping it in, despite… what I told myself, and… I’m sorry,” Zuko confessed. “I need to let that go, too– my fears of being replaced, or… inadequate, and… my anger and hurt for all that’s happened with Tonraq. You’re sorry– and I know, and I want to forgive you, and I need to let these feelings go, Kat, you’re right I do.”

“Please… don’t leave me. Please… give me the chance to. I love you, Katara. Let me… let’s… let’s keep going, keep going forward… please. I can’t lose you, and even though I know they always come first, it’s not just… not for the kids. _I_ can’t. I want my wife. I want _**you**_. Please.“

* * *

She remained still and silent long enough for the quiet to feel tangible. It was loud, in a way, ringing in her ears, deafening her with every slow breath. Katara couldn’t find the right words to say. Maybe there were no words; Zuko resented her and a part of her resented him. They could apologize for it, but such feelings weren’t the easiest to let slip away. They’d have to work, _fight_ — a prospect that sounded all too exhausting, particularly with Zuko’s comments rattling around in her head. 

Her fingers limp and unfeeling beneath his, Katara kept her eyes on her lap, rather than looking at him or their hands. “Keep going forward… to where?” she asked. “I thought we were moving forward. I thought that’s what this morning was.” 

Katara caught her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. The air settled again, heavy around them. She could feel her heart in her throat, thundering its rejection to _I want my wife. I want you._ How did she explain that she felt deceived? betrayed?

“I can see you’re struggling to express yourself fully, Katara.” Yugoda broke the trepidatious quiet. 

She snorted, “Do they teach mind reading up in the north?” 

“No. Only how to read body language and faces.” The old woman smiled encouragingly. “Keep going.”

“I don’t—” Katara huffed, shaking her head slightly. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” she looked at Zuko, her eyes watering, “if I say what I want. I don’t want to keep hurting you.” 

“Katara, think of it this way: if Zuko had a knife in his stomach, and you needed to heal him, would you pull it out or leave it in?” The healer asked. “Yes, there is pain in that action, but neither of you can mend your wounds if there are obstacles in the way.” 

That seemed oversimplified. This wasn’t a stab wound she could fix with glowing water, this was her marriage; and months of anger, weeks of jealousy, had built up, turned into this monster that a selfish, defensive piece of her wished to flee. Katara stared down at the sofa, down at Zuko’s fingers and the tight grasp he had on hers, trying not to let frustration show on her face or worry show in her eyes. 

It could also be that Yugoda was right. Maybe simplified, black-and-white insight was what they needed. Her feelings were too complicated, wound tight around her heart and buried deep. If she’d rip the knife out, if she’d just let herself bleed… 

“I feel like you lied to me,” Katara said finally. Her eyes pulled up from the sofa and she held Zuko’s gaze. “Last night, you said you’d love this baby. This morning, you said you loved me… and you expressed that to me with your body and then… then, you called _our_ baby  _his_ baby. You threw my pregnancy back in my face, after I… _everyone_ involved, me, Tonraq, this child— _our child._ We all trusted you, Zuko. We—” She went quiet, unable to finish with the lump that’d formed in her throat. 

Fortunately, Yugoda, with her mind-reading skills or lack thereof, seemed to catch Katara’s thoughts. She carried on, as Katara pulled her hand from Zuko and receded to the furthest point on the couch, “Prince Zuko, I believe your wife feels you went back on your word. I think she fears for her baby, she fears no one will love her baby.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll do it all wrong,” Katara blurted. “I don’t know how I’ll feel about a child I didn’t want, about a constant reminder of the hardest days my marriage has ever seen. And Tonraq, he can’t… _father_ the baby. That’s not fair, because he’ll never have a place in my family or my heart beyond what he _used_ to mean to me. I’m scared because I’m trusting _you_ , Zuko. And, I know that’s so much to put on you, it’s probably _too much_. But, you’re an outstanding father. You love our children so much and I need you to love this baby, too. But, you said _his_ child, and I— I don’t know how I get through seven or eight more months of pregnancy, knowing that’s what you see when you look at me.” 

* * *

Zuko slowly pulled his hand back as the words of both his wife and Yugoda sunk in, much like that metaphoric knife she kept going on about. Zuko went back to nervously fidgeting with the ring on his finger, and his gaze flickered between Katara’s and Yugoda’s anxiously. It hurt, like Yugoda said it would, but he hoped she was right, that they could grow from it.

Zuko knew he had to be honest in his words, but he also wanted to tread lightly. He needed to phrase the truth fully, but delicately— if possible. “That’s not what I see when I look at you, Kat. It’s… an anger I buried from being hurt… and I’m… I’m afraid of being replaced,” whispered Zuko, letting out a shaky sigh. “I didn’t want to admit it because we have been through this… so many fucking times. I didn’t want to guilt you… or hurt you,” Zuko tried to explain, “But, the council says things about how I’m useless now, and they’re constantly stating how Tonraq is lawfully your king if the heir comes from him.”

“And… b cause I didn’t want to deal with this, I buried it… and I guess, when we fought, it came out because I refused to deal with it,” Zuko tried to explain, patting at his wet cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry it feels like I lied. I never meant for you to feel that way… and God, I meant every word. I love you. I do love the baby. I want this to be our baby, even if genetically they’re not,” Zuko emphasized. “Kat… love, please— if there is one thing, one thing, that you can count on me for, I swear to you is that there is nothing more imperative to me than ensuring that a child feels loved and valued by their parents,” Zuko choked out in a breathy and desperate exhale.

“I know— we were moving forward… and I set it back. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to give up. I love you too much to give up,” Zuko told her. “I do love you, Katara. I love you more than anything, and I promise you, I will love this baby: our baby,” Zuko swore. “You can trust me… and I’m going to let go. I- I can see it now, the things I’ve buried that came out in bouts of anger… and now that I see them, Kat… I know I need to let them go, and I am so sorry.”


	61. Chapter 61

“Katara? Did you hear him?” 

Yugoda’s gentle voice pulled the Chieftess back into focus. It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard Zuko, but more that she’d stopped listening. Katara’s gaze blurred on the intricate rug and her thoughts wandered. 

She didn’t deserve him; she never did. He was good and soft, the opposite of her and her ambiguous dedication to her nation. Whatever the Tribe wanted, whatever they needed, she gave them. She obeyed them, stooped to her Council, to her people’s demands, without defending her family. But, Zuko was still here, still fighting. He melted her cold heart and held her cold hands. 

Reaching for him, Katara found his thigh and gripped the muscle tight. Teary eyes locked on his, her lips trembling and breath heavy. “I’ll always forgive you, Zuko. And I’ll always love you.” 

“I want to move forward with you, Zuko. I want to move on from this… and we can. I know we can. Similar circumstances will never crop up, again. It’s over. The worst is _over_ and I hope you know that. I hope you’ll forgive me.” She squeezed his leg once, looking at him with urgency. “I won’t survive losing you.” 

* * *

Zuko exhaled in a shaky relief, nodding in agreement as his weary eyes finally looked up to greet hers. They were as tired and broken as his were, but matched yet again, time after time, with the same persistent love and loyalty. He melted at her words, and at the softness in her blue eyes.

He didn’t deserve her. She was patient, understanding, and forgiving. What did he do to deserve someone like Katata, who was always loving, and always by his side, no matter how hard things were, no matter how easy it would have been to concede to the council, and divorce him.

He was holding onto frustration and anger, and she was giving him a four hundredth chance to let it go.

Zuko put his hand over hers on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Her hand was cold, but she had anything but a cold heart. Zuko leaned in, despite Yugoda’s presence or the atmosphere, and embraced her.

“Well, you’ll live at least as long as I do because I’m not going anywhere, not ever,” promised Zuko, nuzzling his face against hers. “I love you, and I forgive you, truly, I do, for everything, and I’m sorry for all I’ve done, too. We’re going to get past this. I know it. We’ve beaten the worst of it… it’s all uphill from here.”

* * *

Zuko may’ve meant it as encouragement— _it’s all uphill from here._ They were moving forward, moving on. They’d been at rock bottom and they could only go up. But, for Katara, it seemed her heavy heart sank further when they left Yugoda’s room. 

They’d found a starting place, but they still had so far to go. It scared her, how fragile everything seemed to be, how broken their relationship was. When they first married, Katara never expected anything like this. Somedays were good, but others, she wondered if they’d ever move on, if they’d ever fix all the pain… if she even wanted to keep trying.

Of course, they kept visiting Yugoda over the next few months, coming every day until they felt stable and… _happy?_ Katara didn’t want to use that word. They were safe. Their marriage was safe. She didn’t think they were on the edge of breaking anymore, and she had learned how to soothe Zuko’s worries, how to calm him when his eyes skipped down to the bump of her belly and blurred with tears. 

Five months to go. She was showing more than she had in the past, showing earlier, too. Hiding behind baggy clothes wasn’t an option, which lead to smiles and squeals and everyone touching her stomach. Her people were happy. Another little one was coming. Katara would swat their hands away. Only Zuko had that right… well, Zuko and Tonraq, when the latter brought lemon tarts or skin creams or spent an evening with her studying healing techniques. He never touched her outright; he was too good to cross that line, but when the baby kicked, Katara placed his hand over the little flutter and let him feel his daughter. 

“It’s going to be a girl,” she teased every time. “I was right about all the others. I’ll be right about this one, too.” 

Tonraq’s fingers would tense for a moment, and he’d smile, “And she’ll be brave, smart, and kind, just like you.” Then, he’d drop his hand and take his leave, and Katara would ready the kids for sleep and join Zuko in their bed. That was one thing they’d refused to give up, sleeping next to each other, no matter how distant that felt on their rougher days. She was grateful for it, because it meant she always had a soft place to land, a warm spot to soothe the tension in her limbs.

Katara curled up beside him, tonight like all the rest, and let out a weary sigh before tucking her head under Zuko’s chin. “If you could sing her to sleep,” she prompted, “so she doesn’t keep me up until the early morning?” She pressed her feet to Zuko’s leg, making him hiss. “You know how she loves your voice… more than mine, I think.” 

* * *

It wasn’t easy, but somehow, Zuko felt content again. The word happy seemed jinxing things, but he was now confident, with more patience, love, and time, they’d get to happy again too. But, he was content– things felt safe again, and comfortable, and warm. Normalcy had seemed to regain itself in the hearth of their home. 

Zuko had fully let go of the ignorant resentment he’d held, and began, through Yugoda’s coaching, to express things about _all of **this**_ to Katara without feeling guilty, and Katara returned the same likewise. Zuko was there for her through this pregnancy, and even began to become excited for the baby, even if his worries sometimes got the better of him, and jealousy still stung despite himself. They talked about names, and Katara insisted the baby was a girl. 

Like every night together since they were married, they curled into bed together. Zuko pulled Katara close as she tucked her head under his chin, and he stroked her back affectionately, his eyes fluttering shut tiredly. Zuko moved his other hand over her growing belly– over their daughter. Even if the baby wasn’t his biologically, she’d be his in all the ways that mattered most. Zuko would love her the same, and cherish her the same alongside her siblings. 

“You think so?” Zuko mumbled groggily with a smirk, his eyes still closed. Zuko knew Katara just liked the sound of his voice, but went along with the sweet sentiment nonetheless. “I think she prefers her Mama, but all right,” whispered Zuko, leaning over to kiss Katara’s forehead as his fingers trailed up her back. Zuko ran soothing circles over her belly as he sung an old Fire Nation folksong gently. It was always his uncle’s favorite. 

In the solitude of the quiet, tender moment, Zuko felt overwhelmingly grateful to the spirits– and to Katara– for letting them stay together, for fighting together for each other, despite the odds, and how hard the hurdles thrown at them had been. They’d overcome the worst of it, and perhaps come out stronger for it. Zuko loved her deeply, even more than the day he told her so, and he’d never thought that possible. Katara never failed to exceed his expectations, and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her.

“I know you’re set on our baby being a girl, and you have a litany of names for the child, but Kat on the off chance it’s a boy… don’t you think you should even consider?” teased Zuko, stroking her back lazily, but lovingly. “We could name him… Reng, or… Sodow, or Tedick, or… Harrock… or we could name her for Pakku, or what about your brother? Sokka. That’s a lovely name, and… your brother always sounded like a wonderful person.”

* * *

“I’ve never been wrong before…” Katara rolled closer with a smile. Her fingers wrapped around Zuko’s wrist and she pulled his hand from her back to her face, nuzzling his palm with a sigh. Holding his hand to her cheek, she gave Zuko an affronted look. “You’re going to doubt me now?”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, prompted by Zuko’s breath tickling her neck. He pecked along her jaw playfully, and sent his hand skimming down her back to squeeze her ass. Katara scoffed at him, but didn’t push him away.  

Instead, she teased him. “See? That’s how I know! With the boys, I was just fat. When I was pregnant with the girls, I got curves. Big tits and a bigger- _than-usual_ ass.” Katara hooked a leg over Zuko’s hip and arched her back. “You have yourself a good handful, don’t you?” She smirked, then her demeanor took a sweeter turn, and Katara looked at him softly. 

“Regardless… boy or girl, I’ve thought a lot about naming our baby Sokka. He deserves to have one of my kids named after him,” she said, brushing hair from Zuko’s face.  He kept the dark strands cut to his shoulders. Katara sometimes missed the length he used to have before that visit in the hut, but she liked the way this length highlighted the bones in his face. 

Tracing along his cheekbone, Katara’s fingertips rested on Zuko’s lips for a moment, then she replaced them with her own, kissing him gently. When she broke away, she wore a slight smile. “Sokka could work, don’t you think? I know Tonraq likes the name, but… your opinion’s really the only one that matters.”   

* * *

Zuko laughed when Katara slung her leg over him, and he eagerly leaned into her kiss. “Is it? Then how’d you know with the twins? They were your first girls,” Zuko teased her, pecking at her cheek with a tender smile, laughing from their teasing. “I can’t say that I have anything to complain about,” jested Zuko, giving her ass another squeeze before brushing his nose against hers playfully.

He met her gaze when Katara softened, and nodded while she spoke about Sokka and their baby. He kept absentmindedly stroking her back while she caressed his face, and stroked his hair. Zuko lived for the solitude of these moments. All he longed for was his family– the things that were unequivocally real. 

“Sokka is a lovely name, and a great namesake,” agreed Zuko, saddening at the mention of Tonraq, but trying to move past it. There was no sense dwelling, yet again, on the man and his relation to the child– as in more than he’d ever have. “Well… you know, if Tonraq likes it, guess I can’t complain,” mumbled Zuko before smiling mischievously. 

Zuko rolled over, and hovered over his wife, leaning down to peck Katara’s lips. “I don’t know if he likes this though,” whispered Zuko flirtatiously and facetiously, kissing her deeply. His hand moved then, cupping her breast, and giving it a squeeze, “Or this…” he murmured, his kisses then moving from her lips, down her jaw, and then to her neck, nibbling there, unconcerned with any markings that may be left behind. “Or even _this_.”

* * *

“Maybe not,” she laughed between kisses. “Not with you doing it to _me.”_ This was unexpected, Zuko’s sudden move to pin her down, his hands roaming her curves. There hadn’t been much in the way of intimacy between them, not since Yue’s interruption and, Katara suspected, not since her pregnancy became obvious. Still, her legs parted easily for him, relaxing on either side of his hips, and she ran her hands down Zuko’s back, smiling. “Now, if he were to find _himself_ beneath you… I can’t say he’d complain.”

Katara caught Zuko’s surprised gasp in her mouth, matching the eagerness with which his lips melted against hers and welcoming the taste of spiced tea on his tongue. She savored the familiarity of the kiss, the history in it; she knew him and he knew her and all it took was his weight bearing down on her to push out all her insecurities. There was only room for him, for them— close together, touching one another. 

She moaned faintly when Zuko nipped at her throat. The sound earned another bite, and his fingers wandered to the edge of her robe. Zuko tugged the silk off her shoulder, then his fingertips traveled across the dip of her collarbone, followed the valley between her breasts. 

He was gentle, like always— His fingers started a restless dance, mapping out the swell of her breast, tickling ‘round and ‘round until his thumb brushed over the peak and her nipple pebbled up in reply. Zuko plucked at the dusty-pink bud, then his mouth closed around it —and it felt like a betrayal towards him to wish for something rough.  

She shouldn’t. She should just want him. She should be grateful to have this: his lips and kisses and the slow undulation of his hips that sent pleasure radiating out from her sex. Katara clenched her teeth, her quiet whines cutting off for the moment as she swallowed a question, a suggestion she’d be cruel to share with him. Of course, Zuko paused as soon as she did. He knew her too well, knew any tightness to be a sign that something was wrong. 

Glancing down, Katara found golden eyes on her, patient expectation in them. She held onto her silence for a moment longer, unsure if she’d be better off simply encouraging him along and waiting for their next counseling session… but what the hell could Yugoda tell them? And her walls were down _now_ ; the answer Zuko waited on was right there on the tip of her tongue.  

“Harder,” Katara murmured. “Do that harder. Touch me… harder.” The fingers that resided in Zuko’s hair tightened, tugged as if to push her point across. “I like it… _aggression._ ” Her eyes flicked away as a blush colored her cheeks. “I won’t break, Zuko, I promise. Be rough with me.” 

* * *

Zuko rolled his hips against hers in slow, teasing, tantalizing circles, getting harder as he pressed against her. His upper lip grazed down Katara’s neck as Zuko breathed thickly until she stilled. He looked up at his wife patiently, waiting for her to speak– waiting to see if he should continue or roll aside. Zuko used the back of his hand to caress her cheek, to encourage her to speak. When she did, he was surprised, but a smirk grew on his blushing face.

A laugh bubbled from Zuko’s throat, strained from desire, and low. Zuko licked his lips before biting the lower with another chuckle. He leaned his forehead against hers, and brushed his nose against hers. “That’s kinda sexy when you say it like that,” teased Zuko, but sincerely. He kissed her lips gently then, running his hand down her neck and grabbing her breast roughly as she requested. 

Zuko dragged his teeth down her chest, his breath hot against Katara’s skin. He moved his hand down her body, and pressed his thumb into her hip before biting down on her nipple harder, and pressing his fingers to her skin rougher, working according to the noises she’d make for him. 

Zuko moved his lips down her skin– kissing his way across her chest, and her belly. He knew she wanted it rough, but he paused a moment, paying homage to the life growing there– their baby. Zuko kissed there gently before working to her hips, getting rougher again. He kissed Katara’s thighs, dragging his teeth down her skin as he teased her. His tongue danced across her legs, and around her sex, but avoiding the place she likely yearned for him most. 

Zuko then kissed his way back up her skin, and bit down hard on her neck. He snatched Katara’s wrists and pinned them beside her head. His chest heaving with deep breaths as his cock throbbed, longing to be inside her. Zuko left bites along her neck before biting down on her earlobe, his fingers digging into her wrists as he whispered low in a rasped tone, “I’m going to _fuck_ you so hard.”

* * *

“Please.” A gasp followed the word. Katara captured her bottom lip, hips pressing down into the bed, then rocking up. Her body was desperate for friction, for relief. This ache radiated from between her legs, sending shivers to every place Zuko touched her skin. When he nipped her ear, she whined. When he suckled her neck, she writhed. 

In the past, she wouldn’t have waited so long. He’d tormented her long enough, kissing her thighs, ignoring her wet sex. They wouldn’t have ever reached this point, with her wrists pinned and her blood thrumming. Her fingers fought for purchase— she wanted to grab him, touch him, push him down and ride him— but Zuko held her fast. Her heels dug into the mattress— if she couldn’t top him, she’d have him right then, just like this— but her husband let more of his weight go and Katara gave in. 

Her eyes drifted shut. Zuko rolled his hips into hers, giving her friction but none of the satisfaction that came with taking his cock. What he offered was elusive: light grinding against her sex, sounds of sticky wetness where their bodies met. His mouth chased muted whines from her throat. His breath puffed hot and heavy with hers. Katara wished to tug his hair, to claw down his back and leave lines on his skin, but she couldn’t. With his body braced by his hands, his hands wrapped around her wrists, all she could do was tighten hers into fists and buck up wildly against Zuko’s hips. 

“Fuck… _fuck.”_  She was on the edge of her release. Zuko had her that close from this alone, right on the brink. His eyes were half shut, his lips pursed as he focused on his own pleasure. Katara realized he was watching— the slick glide of his cock up and down swollen, velvet lips— and she wondered if he even knew how close she was. Of course, he did. Over the decade they’d been married, he’d memorized her responses to him. He knew the tension in her limbs, heard the waver in her breath, and felt how her thighs quaked around him. He pulled back. Katara cursed again _, “Zuko._ Fuck.”   

Left desperate and aching, she squeezed her legs together with a low whine, “Zuko…” like pleading would bring him back down on top of her. It didn’t. Something in him was determined, answering her request for aggression. He sat back on his haunches, stroking his cock how she wanted to, his fingers tight, his movements slow and methodical. His lips parted as he looked down at her. His chest heaved with barely controlled pants. Katara glanced him over, her attention falling to the head of his cock where cum dripped to the sheets, and let her legs fall open. 

It was a pose reminiscent of their first night: her body laid out and exposed to him, an eager smile tugging at Zuko’s mouth. She taunted him like she did then, with a coy look and her fingers plucked at her breasts.

“Do you actually _plan_ to fuck me, husband?” Her nipples pebbled up beneath her touch and goosebumps spread across her skin. Katara followed them, mapping a trail down her stomach to her hips, then tugged at the wet curls between her legs. “From my perspective, you look seconds from cumming and you’ve hardly touched me… too bad.” She hummed. Her fingers slipped through her folds, coming away wet and glistening. Katara brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked on them, moaning. “I’m more than ready for you. I want you, your thick cock. Don’t you want to feel how hot I am? How tight? It’s been so long…  _La_ , Zuko, I need you to fuck me.” 

* * *

“Mmm, you _need_ me to fuck you, hmm?” purred Zuko slowly into his wife’s ear, rolling his hips teasingly against her in slow, teasing circles. “Are you sure about that?” Zuko whispered lowly in her ear, nibbling on the lobe of her ear before biting it with a shaky exhale. 

His own body was trembling with desire, and he craved the release of her wet, slick walls cinched around his throbbing cock. It’d been long, as she said– far too long, and all he wanted was to be hers, and to be fully immersed in her. 

She looked delectable below him, the way she taunted and teased him. Katara’s skin illuminated with the sheen glow of sweat from his undying teasing. Zuko leaned his forehead on hers and laughed lowly, his cheeks burning hot from pretending (poorly) that he was unbothered and unfazed. He was just as, if not more so, unraveled as she was. 

“Fuck, I want you. Fuck, I’m going to _fuck_ you,” groaned Zuko with a smirk. Zuko rolled his cock against her warm and sleek folds once more, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he shakily sighed. Zuko grabbed his cock and positioned himself at her entrance before grabbing her wrists. 

Zuko pinned her wrists beside her head on the mattress, and his hands slid roughly up her wrists until he was clutching her hands tight all while he sunk into her with a sharp, single thrust. 

Katara felt tight around him, and he swore he could come undone in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, Katara… fuck,” cursed Zuko, practically gasping for breath as his head fell, bobbing to her forehead as he leaned in to capture her lips. 

Zuko gripped her hands tightly before moving one hand to roughly take hold of her hip. He steadied her there before pulling out only to shove himself back inside her, his hips clashing with hers as he felt her sex tightly around him, with each thrust, pushing in deeper and harder, picking up a faster pace until the room was filled with nothing but their moans, pants, curses, slapping skin, and the creaks of the bed.

 


	62. Chapter 62

How he fucked her was quick, quick and hard and everything she wanted with him. The bed creaked around them, then headboard knocked against the wall with the slam of Zuko’s hips, and Katara’s moans echoed around the room. 

It took only five strokes for her to come. She fell apart, quaking around him, her cunt pulsing around his cock. By some miracle, Zuko kept going, kept thrusting. He seemed invigorated by her climax, looked thirsty for more, and bit down on the curve of her neck like he’d somehow taste the bliss beneath her skin. 

Another five, and she was quivering again, whining and bucking beneath him. Her hands held his so tight her knuckles were white; her heels dug into his ass, spurring him on. Whispered words encouraged him. Her cries made him move faster, pull out of her and slip into her with new vigor. Zuko lifted his torso,  braced on his arms, and his eyes slid down her body to watch his cock fill her up. 

That was all it took to make Katara come again. And with a growl, with a hand letting hers go and grabbing at her hip hard enough to leave a bruise, Zuko gave in. Blood rushed to the surface of his skin, staining his cheeks and chest pink while his body shook and his hips rolled without sense or pattern. His eyes were unfocused until the pleasure ebbed and Katara finally found the strength to reach up and touch him. 

Her fingertips grazed his jaw, pulling his attention to the tired smile brightening her sweaty face. “That was… that was _good_.” She laughed, then welcomed Zuko’s weight as he lay down on top of her, his face tucked into her neck. “I think I’ll have trouble walking tomorrow, but… if you’d be so kind as to fuck me like that, again. I’ll push my appointments in the morning.” 

“ _Good_ … yeah?” Zuko asked teasingly, “I’ll say so,” he added, still catching his breath with a wide smirk upon his face. He laughed, then buried his face in Katara’s warm neck. He could feel her chest rising and falling, slowly steadying. He felt entirely satiated, sleepy, and a bit sore. He’d be a liar if he said he minded. 

Zuko pecked Katara’s neck lazily. “If you really want to skip out on those meetings, I have no problems keeping you preoccupied all night long,” teased Zuko, kissing her temple gently. He hoped he could deliver on her request, but from the look on her face, and the prior sounds from her lips, he’d say she did. 

Zuko’s fingers traced lazy, mindless shapes on Katara’s skin as they lied in silence, continuing to catch their breath a few minutes. “I think we should sleep in all day tomorrow… at least until the kids come parading onto our bed,” Zuko mumbled sleepily, a weary smirk on his face as his eyes fluttered closed, fully content in the stillness of the moment. “I love you, Kat.”

* * *

“I’m skipping the meetings… breakfast… the nanny can take the kids after they come barging in,” Katara smiled, tangling herself in Zuko’s grasp. She drew lazy shapes down his back, her lips finding his the pulse in his neck. “We’ll join them for a lunch of pancakes and sweet syrup, after we’ve had our fun all night and all morning.” 

She laughed her way into another kiss, drawing out the embrace until their hearts slowed and paused and jump-started. Pulses raced again, leading fingers and lips over skin, building pleasure up until they crashed back down. 

It wasn’t until the cusp of dawn that they slept, and a mere two hours later, their kids came tumbling in, making Zuko and Katara scramble for blankets to hide beneath. After chaste kisses and promises of postponed wrestling matches, the weary nanny collected all four children and left the couple in peace. It took all of three minutes for Katara to fall back asleep. 

By noon, however, the guilt of sleeping her day away forced Katara out of bed. She dragged Zuko with her, into a shower and a slower, gentler round, then to copious amounts of tea and a table set with pancakes. The kids were delighted by the change of pace; a chorus of cheers went up when a servant brought huckleberry syrup to the table. 

“You know whose favorite that was?” Katara asked, eyeing Hakoda. 

Her eldest son squinted, and guessed, “Uncle Sokka’s?” 

“Mhm! He couldn’t get enough. He’d drown his breakfast in it, like your sister’s,” she took on an admonishing tone, an arched brow scaring the girls into putting the syrup down now that their pancakes were swimming. She could only imagine the sugar high to come. “When we traveled as teens, he’d help me pick berries if it meant I’d make syrup. Of course, he didn’t have the best knowledge of _which berries_ to eat… he ended up poisoning himself more than once.” 

* * *

By the time they got to bed, woke up, and filled in the blanks with more and more sex, Zuko couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face. All he’d done for the past twelve hours was have sex, hold his wife, play with his children, sleep, and eat. He was a very satisfied, and very happy man. Zuko was in an elated mood, and it was rubbing off on everything as Zuko laughed at the kitchen table with everyone while eating pancakes.

It was exactly the kind of pick-me-up Zuko thought they both needed. Katara was jovial too, and the kids caught on to their contagious mood. Their entire family was laughing, and happy, and smiling from ear-to-ear. It was funny how the simplest of things could bring on just that. 

Zuko ruffled Hakoda’s hair as Katara told him about his uncle’s favorite things. Zuko looked up at his wife lovingly and softly, then thinking of the research he’d done. Zuko had dug through hundreds of thousands of archives and documents, and he’d come up with information. He wanted to be sure. If there was even a chance his brother-in-law was alive, Zuko wanted to check it. He figured his wife would only want the same, but he didn’t want to make any for-sure promises he couldn’t keep. 

“Speaking of Uncle Sokka… Kat, I went rummaging through Fire Nation archives, and… there’s recent documentation on your brother,” Zuko spoke, a hopeful smile on his face. “I know… I know I can’t promise anything, and I wouldn’t want to put any false hope… but… it’s… it’s something… I mean, there are death records for all other prisoners of that time period, but not Sokka… and he has a record from two years ago, Kat… he… he could be out there, at Boiling Rock,” Zuko explained. “We could go, love… Pakku wouldn’t mind… Kat, we could try to _find_ him.”

* * *

She was frozen for a drawn-out moment. _Alive._ Zuko thought Sokka was _**alive.**_ The only sound was her heartbeat, so loud in her ears that it drowned the chatter of four children, the soft voice of her husband. He was saying something, asking something; Katara stared at her plate, trying to make sense of the jumbled words— _Kat, did you hear me?_

“Wha—” She blinked rapidly, head snapping up. Her brows knit together in a perplexed line. “What? No.. _. no.”_ A shaky breath pulled from her as Zuko’s concerned expression came into focus. “Sokka- _Sokka died._ Sokka died fifteen years ago, Zuko. We had a funeral for him. We put him to rest. The entire Tribe moved on. You can’t just— you’re barging into a history that’s not yo—” She could feel herself becoming upset. Her throat was tight, her posture stiff and tense. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Where did you even get these documents? I never gave orders for _my_ ships to go to the _Fire Nation!_ ”

Her hands dropped beneath the table, clenched in her lap to hide their tremor. It didn’t stop her body from shaking. Her stomach turned over with the urge to vomit and the five pairs of golden eyes focused solely on her made her face burn up. Katara tried to paint her face with calm, for the benefit of her child, but her lips quivered as she breathed in. 

“All the Water Tribe prisoners were released, Zuko. Everyone from the Boiling Rock was sent home, as decreed by the treaty,” she said, barely above a whisper. She couldn’t manage any louder than that, for fear her voice would crack and tears would come. Katara dropped her gaze, shaking her head. “The documents, whatever you read, they have to be fake. If- if they aren’t— are you saying your uncle knowingly held my brother?” Her blue eyes were wet and rimmed with red when she looked up again. “Sokka’s death record was lost or burned or— or maybe he died before he even got there, Zuko. He’s gone, okay? Sokka’s gone.” 

* * *

Zuko was shocked when she was so hurt by his suggestion. He’d never mean to hurt Katara. He meant to instill hope, though he should have known bringing up something so painful would hurt her. Zuko took a deep breath and stood, walking over to her. “Kat, shh, love, I’m sorry, shh,” Zuko told her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms affectionately with a tender squeeze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, my love,” Zuko murmured, standing over her to hide her breaking from the kids. He knew how she loathed letting the kids see her tears, no matter how warranted they were.

Zuko pressed a tender kiss to her forehead in apology, then pulled back steadily, holding her forearms still. “The warden might have lied to my uncle,” Zuko spoke. “Kat… I– I don’t want to upset you, or… get your hopes up in vain, but I wouldn’t– I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t truly believe there was a chance your brother is out there– alive, waiting to come home,” Zuko stated. “I can’t… I can’t sleep at night knowing he could be out there… in prison… an innocent man,” Zuko explained, trying to resonate with her, regardless of the pain.

“I… I was curious myself. I asked Lu Ten for some documents pertaining to Sokka,” Zuko explained. “I didn’t want to say anything unless there was a real chance, so I waited until now to tell you,” Zuko told her. “But now… I think there is. I think there is a good chance Sokka is alive, Kat,” Zuko emphasized. “Katara… I don’t mean to… overstep… I love you, Kat. I went looking to help you– for Sokka, and… and for you. I would never try to hurt you, Katara. I love you,” Zuko whispered, stroking her arms. “Please, Kat… if– if he is out there we need to try… we… we can’t leave him there, even if there’s the smallest chance… we… don’t you want to be sure, Kat? For Sokka.”

* * *

Katara stiffened under Zuko’s touch, her body leaning away from him. “No, Zuko, you don’t understand,” she snapped, getting to her feet so fast that he and her children all startled. Free from his grasp, she made fists in her dress, trying to keep strong. “I’m sure. _I am sure!”_  

“I spent years looking for him.” Her voice rose to a desperate, pained level. “Do you think I didn’t? Do you think I abandoned my brother to whatever fate was his?” Her face flashed in disbelief, then anger, that Zuko would even inadvertently imply such a thing. “I scoured every document, every bit of surveillance our troops could uncover— _there was nothing,_ Zuko, except for the finality of the Boiling Rock and the death sentence that place is.” 

She saw denial in his eyes, and long forgotten words came back to her. “I know. I know you said they don’t execute prisoners there…” 

The more her husband tried to assuage her, the more frustrated Katara became. And she ached. _La,_ her heart ached, having to relive these same emotions, these same false hopes and long shots in the dark. “Sokka was the son of the Head Chief, Zuko. Second in line to our throne, he wasn’t a prisoner _._ He was _collateral._ And my father wasn’t one to give in to demands. He cared—he loved Sokka, but he had his heir, safe and sound. A waterbender, _safe and sound.”_ She paused a moment, caught her breath before tears spilled over. 

_“_ Then four years passed,” Katara said when she could breathe again. “The war ended. I married you. Sokka didn’t come home with the rest of the men, and he was formally announced dead by the Fire Nation’s envoy. Not that it mattered, we’d already said goodbye to him.” She looked at him sadly, imploringly. “Please, Zuko. He’s been put to rest. His soul’s moved on to the Great Sea. That’s sacred, Zuko. Our rituals are sacred. Let him be.” 

* * *

“Alright… al-alright,” Zuko stammered, dropping his comforting hands at her persistence. He looked away, feeling defeated. “I didn’t mean to imply you wouldn’t look for Sokka, Kat… I know how you are,” he teased her slightly, trying to lift her mood. He knew she’d never leave a loved one in limbo when she suspected a chance. It wasn’t that Zuko thought that Katara wanted to just abandon in Sokka. He would never think that about her– she’d proven that false far too many times over the course of their lives. 

Zuko dropped it, and sighed, taking a cup of tea off the counter and making good use of his bending by reheating it. Zuko was shocked when he saw Ursa in a mess of tears and her siblings trying to console her. He put down his tea, his features scrunched up, and he tapped Katara’s arm. “Turtle duck, what on earth is the matter?” whispered Zuko, taking her little hands in his. “I’m sorry– is it our arguing? I’m sorry,” Zuko stated, squeezing her hands, remembering his little girl’s prior worries. “Mommies and daddies all fight sometimes, my turtle duck. It’s okay,” he tried to assure her. “We shouldn’t do it with you all nearby- I’m sorry,” Zuko said to all of his children.

But, Ursa shook her head, swiping at her face as Zuko turned, looking to Katara worriedly. “What if somebody took me?” she spoke, “Or Kya… or– or Iroh or even Hakoda! We aren’t heirs!” cried Ursa. “Grandpa Hakoda let them! That’s what you said, Mama!” cried Kya, and Zuko shook his head.

 “Sweetheart, turtle duck, no– no, no,” Zuko told her, inhaling sharply. “No one is going to take any of you, ever,” Zuko promised. “There is no war right now, and even if they tried, they’d have to get through me, and worse yet for them, your mom first,” Zuko said with a small laugh. “They will never, ever get ahold of you,” Zuko assured her, kissing her tear-stained face. 

“And… even though it’s impossible, if they did– we’d do anything and everything to make sure you came home safe and sound. I swear, turtle duck,” Zuko told her, pulling her hands gently from her face. He turned to Katara with a small smile, then looked back to his daughter. “We promise, okay? Now come on, let’s get back to work on those pancakes.”

* * *

An angry glare pinned Zuko where he stood. What had he been telling them, for the girls to fear her and mistrust her so much? The conversations regarding her children and the line of succession weren’t even had yet, not outside her marriage bed… or so she thought. But, Zuko had obviously mentioned something, otherwise the girls wouldn’t be panicking as they were. Did he tell them she was _cheating,_ too? 

Katara swallowed a bitter comment half of this being his fault—if he’d just given her a waterbender—and painted a softer expression on her face. “Kya, Ursa… I’m sorry that you have to carry even the slightest burden due to the world’s old prejudices,” she said. “I never wanted this for you _, any_ of you, and if I’d known how the war was going impacted you…” 

She would’ve, _what?_ Refused to marry Zuko? There’d still be a war, then. Had she been wise, perhaps she never would’ve fallen for him. She would’ve played by the same rules as she had in the past, keeping him a distance, keeping her feelings buried deep. And, after Hakoda’s birth, she would’ve been smart to disallow Zuko to father anymore of her children. 

But, she wasn’t that cruel, and she wasn’t that cold. She’d made her choices and she’d done her best to love her family and provide a good life for them. It just… _it wasn’t enough._

“None of you can ever comprehend the sacrifices I’ve made to protect you,” she said, speaking to all of her children now, and Zuko, too. “I’ve done things that have defied the Council. I’ve ignored my people at times. I’ve…” Her thoughts skipped from the soldiers she executed to the Council officials she’d ruined to Tonraq, and the precarious relationship they’d have from here on. “I’ve made decisions and taken actions that go against everything I want, all to keep you safe.” 

“And, while you’re not old enough to know the specifics, you’re old enough to hear this— I am not like your grandfather. I do not see you, my own flesh and blood, my only true loves, as collateral or assets or heirs,” Katara stated, fighting back tears. “You are my children. You are my family. And, I love you.”

After a beat of silence, she stood. The threat of tears was too great, and she didn’t need her children watching her break down. “I’m no longer hungry. Must be the pregnancy making me sick,” Katara excused. She stepped away from the table and gave a servant her plate of untouched food. “I’m going to lie down for a while and rest.”  

 

* * *

Zuko shook his head in confusion at Katara’s angry glare his way and it made his stomach sink. He didn’t know what he’d said, and hoped she was just mad– like when they used to get mad. He didn’t want them to revert to _before_. They’d finally found normalcy again, and comfort. Things were good again. Things felt secure again, and Zuko was so happy. Katara was too, he knew she was. Hell, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other last night. Was this still about Sokka? Maybe they just had to argue about it- get it out. 

He listened when she told their children, all of them, about her sacrifices. All Zuko could do was nod, meeting her gaze. He knew. He knew he was lucky. His uncle wasn’t so the same. His uncle had sent him away; Yue’s father sent her away. If the Earth Kingdom asked for one of their children as a pawn to be an heir in a treaty, he couldn’t even imagine Katara thinking about it for a millisecond. And, besides her being a ruler, Katara was simply a giving, loving mother and wife. They were all incomprehensibly lucky to have her. He hoped she knew that he knew that- that he felt it. He knew their kids did too. 

Children could be fickle, and easily upset. The tutors taught them all about the history of their Tribe. They knew the interworking of the monarchy and its reign and its succession. They knew of the law– that only a waterbender could be crowned. It was a lot for their little hearts to bear, but hiding things too, Zuko learned in his own childhood, could backfire, even from the best intentions. It could easily be unwise. 

He wanted to follow her as she spoke of not feeling well. He wanted to make sure Katara was okay, but he knew she needed space. He had to give her that space. Ursa, however, just wanted her mom, and Zuko smiled as his daughter pulled from him and raced into her mother’s arms, crying still. 

She clung to Katara’s legs, wiping her face against her. “Mommy,” cried Ursa, sniffling. “I love you too, Mommy,” whispered Ursa, her fingers curling into Katara’s skirt. “I’m sorry,”  she muttered, shaking her head against her mother. “I love you, Mama.”

* * *

“Oh, I love you, too, snowflake.” Katara combed her daughter’s hair, then stooped to her level. “I’m not upset with you. I only want you to know how much I love you… and how far I’ll go to protect you.” She pecked Ursa’s nose softly. “It’s all so you can have a wonderful life, and have _fun!”_ She stood and hugged Ursa before the girl went running back towards her father and siblings. 

It was supposed to be a snowy day, so Katara didn’t resent Ursa for being over and through with any motherly attention. The kids wanted to sled and build snowmen, and Zuko loved these days with them. They were all better company than herself, anyway. Zuko had always been the better parent; that was only made more obvious every day.

Hovering near the door, Katara smiled through a sigh, then pushed it open. “I’ll be working late, I think,” she told Zuko. “I have a lot to catch up after our long night and morning, plus it’s a full moon, and since…” Her eyes skipped down to her belly, where she rested a hand, then Katara looked across the room at her husband. “…well, Tonraq’s close to mastering healing and he wants to touch on some bloodbending, too. So… and, the baby will keep me up all night, anyway… so don’t feel like you have to wait up.” 

* * *

Zuko put a gentle hand on his wife’s arm, running his fingers up and down absentmindedly. “You know I’ll wind up waiting up,” teased Zuko, smirking at her. He always waited for her. “Don’t be up too late, Kat, with all I kept you up last night, you’ll be overtired,” joked Zuko, wishing she could come along. He knew she must be overloaded with work from their hours spent in between the covers. 

“Hopefully that’ll mean our little one’s a waterbender, if she’s getting all excited at the full moon,” Zuko replied, giving her an encouraging smile. “Though, the others kept you up too,” he said with a small laugh, glancing over his shoulder at their children still shoving pancakes in their faces. Zuko smiled at them affectionately before returning his gaze to Katara. “I know the baby will be a waterbender,” concluded Zuko, putting a tender hand on her belly. 

“Why don’t you let me help you, Kat?” Zuko suggested. “It is _my_ fault your behind,” he stated softly, his hand still over her blooming belly. “Pakku can go out with the kids– they love to torture the old man, and it keeps him young,” joked Zuko, moving his hand to cup her cheek lovingly, his thumb stroking her face. 

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Kat… I didn’t mean to. I was trying to… to make you happy- to help. I’m sorry… I should’ve… I should’ve thought more about… it all,” Zuko apologized, leaning his head on the doorway, his eyes softening as he kept on hers. His hand moved down her face, still caressing her cheek as his thumb ran over her lips gingerly. “I love you, Kat.”

 


	63. Chapter 63

“As much as I’d love to steal you for the day, I probably shouldn’t,” Katara murmured, wrapping her fingers around Zuko’s wrist. She kept his hand held to her face, nuzzling his warm palm for a moment, then let him go with a kiss. “The kids want to play with you… and I already kept you from them this morning. I don’t want to upset them any more than I already have.”

A smile came with her words, but it fell quickly, leaving a solemn look between herself and her husband. She guessed he wanted to talk, and that was why he was offering his help, but Zuko had his own duties to tend to and the kids were hopping around on sugar. Her eyes drifted over his shoulder for a moment, before focusing on him again. 

“I will miss you,” she said. Squeezing his wrist, Katara dropped her hand as Zuko did, and gave him a hug around the waist. “I’ll try to be in bed around midnight, okay? And, bring the kids by the sparring yard after they’ve eaten dinner. I won’t be able to help them with firebending, but… I don’t know, I’d like having all of you around for a bit.” 

* * *

Zuko kissed his wife goodbye for the day, and headed out to play with their children. He missed her throughout the day, and knew the children did too- but they knew she had much to do for the betterment of the country– the world. The kids laughed in the fluffy snow, throwing snowballs at one another, building snowmen, and sledding down hills. Zuko instructed each of them carefully on firebending. He ensured that each of them were far away from each other when practicing to avoid any accidents. Zuko often wound up with minor burns on his arms that Katara would later heal up at the end of the night. 

When the sun began to set, Zuko packed up the kids things and lead them inside. He began cooking dinner, a traditional meal from the Fire Nation that his uncle had taught him to make when he was young. Hakoda was always very interested in learning how to prepare the dish, and Zuko happily showed his son each step. They set aside a mild dish for Katara,  knowing how she wasn’t very fond of the harsh spices from the Fire Nation. 

The children happily ate up, and Zuko pulled out the cake Kya and Pakku baked last night. They were all eating while they walked over to the sparring yard, their little faces coated in chocolate icing. Zuko walked over to Katara’s desk, putting a gentle hand on her back and placing the dinner in front of her with a glass of milk, and cake on the side. 

“Did you get a lot done, love?” asked Zuko, running his hand down her back softly. “The kids had fun, as you can see,” Zuko teased, showing his wife his slightly-singed arm before pecking her temple. “They’re excited to show you the new lesson. Kya picked up particularly fast,” Zuko boasted, smiling over at them as he gave Katara’s shoulders a squeeze. “I can come down and help you after the kids are put to bed, if you’d like.”

* * *

“You’ll help me?” Katara asked, a teasing note in her voice. Coating her hands in water, she went about mending the burn on his arm,  _tsk-_ ing under her breath. “I suppose you could be our guinea pig, if you want to suffer more burns and cuts for Tonraq’s practice…” She pulled back and dried her hands on her dress when Zuko’s skin was healed and unblemished. “It would probably be better if you just watched… knowing the tension between the two of you, I’d end up healing you both.” 

She gave her husband a knowing look, reaching up to cup his cheek. Her playful glare turned to a smile. “Why don’t you have the kids show me their lesson?” 

At her suggestion, the parents were promptly tugged outside, where freshly fallen snow dusted the training grounds. Katara cleared it away, giving the kids room to take up their stances, under the guidance of their father. From a place on a bench, she watched as they all moved through different forms. Hakoda was far more advanced than his siblings, but she clapped for Iroh, nonetheless, impressed by the little blasts her three-year-old could make. 

“Well done,” she cheered. “You’re all such talented firebenders… just like your father. You’ll be a master soon enough, Hakoda.” Katara gave her eldest a private smile.

“Chances are, he got that from his mother,” a familiar voice called. Katara turned on the bench to see Tonraq crunching through the snow, right on time with the sunset. “How old were you when Pakku declared you a master?”  

She smiled proudly, facing her children again. “Fourteen.  _And,_  I mastered waterbending in a matter of months.” 

Both Kya and Ursa looked surprised, but Hakoda’s threw a frustrated scowl at Zuko. “It’s not fair. Dad’s too careful!” 

“Fire can be dangerous, snowflake. Your father’s moving at a pace appropriate for you,” Katara chided. 

“ _Haha,_  Mama’s a better bender than you!” Kya had jumped to the defense of her parents now, as fiesty as usual. Of course, she’d never miss that chance to bug her brother. “She probably didn’t need Pakku to show her every little thing, ‘Koda!” 

Katara watched Hakoda wind up, his fists curling by his sides. But, he couldn’t get off a blast before Ursa tackled him into the snow, joined by Kya and loud, piercing squeals. 

“Apparently, I should never brag about anything every again,” she muttered, scooping Iroh up when he came running from his siblings’ skirmish. Zuko was darting around the outside of them, trying to break up the fighting trio, but Katara called to him, telling him to let the kids sort it out how she and Sokka would: a screaming match and a fight. 

“They’ll be fine,” she said, nuzzling Iroh’s cheek before handing him over to his father. “And, if anything happens to them, you have a master healer and her apprentice on deck to fix it.” 

Tonraq nodded his head at Zuko’s approach. “Sorry… next time, I won’t mention a thing about Katara’s talents. At least they’ll sleep well tonight,  _hm?_ ” 

* * *

“Alright, alright, let’s break it up,” Zuko said to his children, standing between them as he tried to break up their squabble. He couldn’t help but smirk as they pestered each other. To Zuko, it was something he never really had. He and his sister fought, in the beginning, maybe like this, but it morphed into true cruelty. This was pure banter– it went along with how they loved each other, in a way. It was heartwarming to think of how warm of a family he had now in comparison to the pain of the past. It was all he ever wanted in life. 

Zuko was pulled from his joyful reflection while holding his youngest son. Tonraq’s voice, which to Zuko was like nails on a chalkboard, stirred him. He grumbled, rolling his eyes, then held his son closer, kissing his forehead. “Yes, they’ll sleep like logs,” Zuko stated, ruffling Kya’s hair. “As I’m sure Kat and I will after our  _strenuous activities_  last night,” Zuko remarked in irritation.

He walked over to Katara, “I’m going to give Iroh a bath, and force the others to take theirs,” Zuko spoke with a laugh, letting out a sigh. He hoped they could talk when Katara came to bed– he knew they needed to. Zuko leaned in and pecked Katara’s cheek chastely, “I’ll see you later,” Zuko whispered, “Don’t work too late, okay?” 

Zuko then sent the kids to their baths, and gave one to his youngest child. Afterwards, they went out to play with Druk, and soon enough, Zuko was tucking them into bed. He read Iroh a story, and soon enough the little one was asleep.

Zuko then readied himself for bed, looking out the window to check the moon to see the time. Katara had taught him how to do that when he moved here. His people used the sun to gauge time; hers used the moon. It was close to midnight, and Zuko sighed a breath of relief, lying back in bed with heavy eyes. 

Zuko picked up a book, and began reading it, making him sleepier as his head began to bob until he kept jolting awake. Zuko smiled when he finally heard the creak of the bedroom door.

* * *

“Oh…” As the light from the hall hit the bed, Katara’s eye widened with slight surprise. “You’re still up.” A faint smile accompanied her remark. It was nice to see him, to know he waited for her to come to bed, but she couldn’t help the sliver of irritation that came, too. Was it so he could study her? Keep tabs on her? Was he reading her behaviour as she padded into their room, trying to figure out if she did more than teach a willing pupil difficult bloodbending techniques for hours?

She swallowed a quiet sigh and stripped from her warmer clothing. “It would’ve been fine if you went to sleep, Zuko. I told you I didn’t mind.”  _And there’s no need to monitor my comings and goings,_ she added in her head. _Tonraq just wants to learn the best ways to protect his child._ “The full moon is the only reason I was up late, anyway. Bloodbending without it proves difficult, no matter the strength and capabilities of the student.”

Selecting a red chemise from her wardrobe, Katara wrapped herself in the matching robe and turned around, searching her husband’s gaze for any sign of distrust. Surely, after all the time they spent with Yugoda, after last night, he wasn’t worried about infidelity, or lack thereof. But, rather than assert her faithfulness once more—she really didn’t want one more fight, if that’s what Zuko was hoping for by keeping awake—Katara changed the subject.

“Hakoda’s proven to be quite the powerful bender… have you thought at all about advancing his training?” she asked. “Sure, he might not be ready for the techniques you learned from the dragons, but Zuko… honestly, he needs to move beyond the basics you’re drilling into him.”

* * *

Zuko sighed, nodding, “I know, I just like to see you, and see how your day was,” Zuko replied, “I always wait up,” he said with a small laugh, setting aside the book, and rubbing his eyes. “Unless my body begs me to pass out, in which case, I have little choice in the matter,” teased Zuko, looking up when she brought up their son.

“Hakoda is excellent,” Zuko agreed, proudly smiling. “He’s as good as my sister. He’s better than I am,” Zuko boasted, beaming with pride for the boy. He sighed when Katara noted what he knew to be true. “Yes… I know… he’s more than ready,” Zuko said more softly. “I’m…” he trailed off, putting his hand on his forehead worriedly.

“I just don’t want him hurt,” Zuko admitted. “I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’ll hurt him,” Zuko spoke, “And… I know- I know that’s not fair to hold him back because of me… and I need to get over this fear, but…” Zuko sighed out, his fingertips subconsciously grazing his scar, “If I hurt our baby- any of our babies- while training them, Agni, Kat… I would never,  ** _ever_**  forgive myself.”

“And… I’m sorry, Kat. I know- I know you’re  _upset_  with me- about today. I- that’s half the reason I waited up. I wanted to say that I’m sorry for bringing Sokka up like that without thinking about how you might feel, and all the emotions I would dredge up. I just- I wanted to give you hope. I wanted to help— to think… to… I don’t know. I’m sorry that hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean it, and I never meant to disrespect you or your brother’s memory. I know how sacred that is,” Zuko apologized.

* * *

“Oh, Zuko…” She climbed up onto the bed beside him, awkward with her pregnancy, and settled on her knees in front of him. Pulling his hand away from the scar on his face, Katara replaced it with her own. “I don’t think you need to worry, especially if you’re only demonstrating things for him and guiding him through stances. And if you insist on worrying—which, I know you will—you can rest assured that I can heal anything.” Her fingers traced the edge of his burn before curling into his hair. 

“Hakoda’s a bright child, my love, and he’s eager,” she said. “You’re not your father. You’re not forcing him into a duel. You’re teaching… and, when the time comes to spar with him, you’ve sparred me, Zuko. A hundred times. We’ve gone hard, but I’ve never been hurt,” Katara assured him, her eyes soft. 

They slid away after a breath. “Aside from a few  _verbal_ fights… and the Sokka conversation.” Katara shifted back on her heels, no longer touching Zuko, and instead, fidgeting in her lap. She adjusted her robe so it covered more of her thighs and tried to maneuver into a comfortable sitting position, then laid a hand over the bump of her belly.  

Maybe that was the reason for her emotional reaction over dinner: the pregnancy. Maybe it was just…  _hormones_ , and she was being stupid or silly for not wanting to explore this, for not wanting to build her hopes up. 

In her head, Katara could see him. She could feel him. It wasn’t hard to picture Sokka’s smile, to imagine how he’d hug her and how happy he’d be to meet all of her kids. He’d probably like Zuko, too, after grilling him about treating his baby sister right. And, Katara knew he’d bring life to the palace; he’d fill a whole in her chest that’d been hollow since his death. 

She sniffled, and whispered quietly, “Please don’t. Don’t make me lose him all over again. Don’t make me believe he’s alive, just to rip him away from me. The Fire Nation took him. They killed him. They killed my entire family, Zuko.” Katara heaved a heavy sigh, managing to look at her husband after wiping her eyes. “I’ve made peace with that.” 

* * *

Katara always knew precisely what to say, and what to do. He leaned into her touch lovingly, and only hoped he could bring her a fraction of the same comfort she brought him amidst any doubts. She was right- it was silly. She didn’t treat it like it was stupid of him to fret, though. She only helped him be aware that he wouldn’t hurt his son. Hakoda was an excellent bender, and impatient as Zuko himself was at the same young age.

“You know, I pestered my uncle constantly at his age,” Zuko said, smirking, his hand reaching up to hold hers affectionately. “Hakoda is far better than I ever was. He’s a natural… I couldn’t be prouder of him,” Zuko whispered, smiling at his wife with gentle, loving eyes- a soft gaze reserved only for her. He loved her so much.

That was why when she spoke of her pain his face fell. “Kat,” muttered Zuko, moving his hand to cup her cheek, and swiping away a tear. “Love, I’m so sorry I hurt you,” implored Zuko, sighing deeply. He inhaled sharply and shakily as she mentioned her family’s deaths- murders. He wished he could bring them all back. He wished his own family wasn’t so cruel. He wished he could shoulder her pain so Katara wouldn’t have to. She didn’t deserve it.

Zuko shook his head, feeling guilty, and sorry. “I’m sorry, Kat. I won’t— I won’t, my love,” he assured her. “I’m sorry, I am. I didn’t mean to wound you with it. I just- I wish I could help…” Zuko muttered. “But, I promise. I won’t— I won’t anymore,” stated Zuko, leaning in to kiss her salty cheek tenderly before pecking her lips.

Zuko pulled his wife into an embrace, resting her head on his chest as he kept her close- letting her just cry, trying to show her he was here, and he always would be. There were no words to make up for what she lost. All he could do was be there- hold her.


	64. Chapter 64

“You look tired.” 

Her eyes pulled up from the scroll stretched across her desk, welcoming the break from tiny, black letters and brightening with her smile when she saw Tonraq entering her office. 

“Is that any way to greet your queen?” Katara teased, setting aside her work. “It’s your child that’s keeping me up at night.” She rested a hand on her round belly, sinking back in her chair with a heavy sigh. 

Just like that, two months had slipped by, and she’d reached her third trimester with little complication… but, all the more fatigue. Sleep was elusive. Finding any comfortable way to sit, lay, or stand was impossible. She was working harder than she ever had before and her body was wearing down.

“You still think it’s a waterbender?” 

Katara nodded, eyeing him as he took a seat opposite to her. “I do…” she said. “Even if she’s not, my people will more readily accept a nonbender of my blood over a firebender. Either way, Hakoda will remain safe.” She looked down, then snorted. “And, I’m not doing _this_  again, so they’ll just have to accept the child I have.” 

Glancing up, she caught Tonraq’s warm smile. “They will. You’ve done so much for all of them.” 

“My reasons were a little more selfish than I’ll let any believe,” she shrugged. “I watched Yue and Lu Ten fall apart after the death of their first born… I can’t even imagine their pain and I don’t want to. This was for Zuko, for my family, so they can all live here happily without the Council stirring up trouble.” Katara rolled her eyes at the ceiling. 

“Speaking of which… it’s been slow and difficult, but I’ve  _dealt_  with the council members who placed us in this position, the last to go being the Councilman of Foreign Relations. I’d like you to take his position, Tonraq.” 

“Why? Why not Prince Zuko? He’s…” Tonraq’s head canted to one side. _“…literally_  a foreign relation.”  

“Because I’ll be asking Zuko to  _head_ the Council,” Katara said, firmly. “I believe it will send a powerful statement to the remaining members: they can bend my arm, but they cannot make me submit. Additionally, the move will force the Southern Water Tribe to accept the Prince of the Fire Nation, and his children, in positions of power— even if they cannot be chief. Zuko will be taking Hakoda on as his protege.”

“But, Zuko aside, you have the expertise for it,” she implored, reading the slight apprehension on his face. Katara understood it: he was a soldier, first and foremost. Moving his battles to a room and round table wasn’t a step he could easily take. “You’re well-traveled and well-educated; you’ve been all over the world, seen how others live. I trust you in this position, Tonraq, and you’re hard to dislike.” She smiled. “You’ll do well, schmoozing diplomats and stealing their wives.”

A chuckle burst from him. “Can’t say I’m interested in that.”

“Extramarital affairs get a little complicated, don’t they?”

“That’s the understatement of my life.” 

“On the bright side, I don’t think Zuko hates you anymore.”

“Oh?” His look was one of perfect sarcasm. “That’s wonderful! Now, if I could just get him to like me…”

“You are not allowed to seduce my husband.”

“Come on,” Tonraq joked. “He’s a good looking guy! And, we’ll be working closely together… both of us on the Council, late nights, maybe a bottle of wine.” He winked, paying no mind to her stern glare. “Watch out, Chief.” 

“Whatever. If eye-candy will make you take the position…” Katara pushed the document across her desk along with a quill, gesturing for him to sign. “I’d be happy to have you,” she said, then, softly, “You’ll get to work near your daughter, Ton. You’ll get to be here while she grows up. She’ll know you.” 

His smile was small, but nonetheless, heartfelt. “You are so adamant it’s a girl.” 

She watched him scrawl his name, complete with his new title, then took it back with a smile, blowing on the ink so it would dry. “I’m never wrong.”

/////////

A few hours later, Katara stepped out of her office. It was past dinnertime, so she knew the kids would be in the training yard, running through drills under the guidance of their father (who likely meant to wear them down for sleep). 

Sure enough, she found all five of them out in the snow, blasting fire at snowmen and working on their stances. Little Iroh was struggling to keep his balance. Zuko kept a hand on his back, holding him while Hakoda moved through the beginner form as a demonstration, and was completely oblivious to her approach. 

Katara snuck up behind them and wrapped them both in a tight hug. “I’m finally done,” she said, dragging Iroh up to her hip and snuggling up in Zuko’s warmth. “Sorry for another long day… There’s a lot changing, a lot I want to run by you whenever you’re done training.” 

* * *

Zuko took Katara’s advice to heart. He wouldn’t hurt Hakoda, and Hakoda was far beyond ready to advance to the next stages in bending. He was as much a prodigy as his aunt was. From dawn to dusk, Hakoda enjoyed learning new formations and stances, and Zuko would make jokes about getting to old to be doing this all day, but persisted through with his son. 

He instructed their other children as well, even helping little Iroh with the most basic forms. Zuko had char marks and small burns all over his skin, and his face was dusted with ash with pieces of his hair singed. Zuko didn’t care, as long as the wounds stayed on him and none of their children. Besides, he knew Katara could heal them later at night. 

Iroh startled with a tiny gasp when his mother touched his shoulder, but that quickly turned to happy giggles when he saw his mom’s face. The toddler clung to his mother, snuggling into her neck and clinging to her. Zuko smiled brightly at the sight of his wife, and he instantly softened, leaning in against her. Zuko pecked her cheek affectionately, and held her close. 

“That’s all right, my love, I know there’s so much going on within the council and the reform you’re initiating,” Zuko replied, rubbing her back in soothing circles and putting a tender hand over her growing belly with affection. Zuko nodded at his wife, “Sure, Kat,” Zuko agreed, looking over at Hakoda, who took his sisters by their hands and dragged them over to their parents. 

“Mama! Look! Look, what Papa showed me! And, Ursa and Kya, too!” Hakoda excitedly called to his mother. Zuko smiled, nodding proudly at their son, giving him the go-ahead to demonstrate all he’d learned. Hakoda excitedly beamed at his father before looking over confidently at his mother. 

Kya and Ursa scurried back as Katara gestured them over to stand beside them, far from the flames. Hakoda took a deep breath and then doubled down on his stance. The young boy showed off all the firebending forms he’d quickly had down pat– impressing the entirely family, even Kya, who had a tendency to envy her brother’s penchant for firebending. Kya and Ursa quickly followed suit, showing all they had learned throughout the day. 

Their parents applauded, and Katara lauded them all. Soon afterwards, Zuko and Katara tucked their children into bed, and the prince took his wife’s hand as the couple, too, headed to their bedroom. Katara took a seat at the little table in their room, and Zuko quickly heated water himself with tea in it, which always replaced their usual nighttime glass of wine while Katara was expecting. 

He sat down across from her, handing her the mug, and placing his free hand over Katara’s. “You wanted to tell me about what’s happening with the council?” asked Zuko, his thumb running over the back of her hand. “All is well, I hope?”

* * *

“I’ve made some changes to it… some I’m worried you might not be happy about, but I need you to listen.” Katara took the steaming mug from him, “Thank you,” and settled back in her favorite chair. 

It had a nice view of their room—the ornate suite with dark furs and wood, still decorated with hints of how her father liked to keep it—and the window offered up the sweeping lights of her city. It brought her peace, no matter the trouble going on outside the walls or in the city streets.

Focused on the harbor and the dots of ships bobbing in it, Katara explained, “I have removed everyone who put me in this position…” a hand slid over her stomach, accompanied by a tired sigh. “I had to concede at first, keep my people satisfied, keep my children safe. The Council wouldn’t have allowed it any other way. But, with my pregnancy going well, it was time to make the changes.” 

“I’ve removed Councilman Yuka from his seat, which, as you know, opened the position for a new Council Head.” Her eyes dragged back to her husband. “You used to be in charge of foreign affairs… you have experience dealing with my people, yours… the world; you’re talented, too.” Pausing a moment, Katara let her implications sink in, a subtle smile on her lips. “Which is why I want you to move from your old seat and become the Council’s new leader, Zuko. I want you to take over and I want you to train Hakoda to follow your lead.” 

* * *

Zuko watched as Katara settled into her chair, she seemed unsettled, and it worried him. The council had been nothing but problematic and unsupportive as of late. Katara had done everything to please them, but nothing seemed to be enough. When she told him that she made changes, Zuko nodded in agreement, though worry still sat in his stomach when she said he wouldn’t like it. 

Zuko watched his wife’s eyes move around their room. The room was cozy, and looked like her father’s old suite. It also had pieces of Fire Nation culture around it, and portraits of their children. Their things were scattered about, and a few mugs were left on the nightstand. 

He traced his finger around the rim of his mug, listening to Katara speak. Zuko’s eyes only flashed up at her blue ones when she stated that she removed the head councilman. Zuko’s amber eyes went wide, surprised, but also smug. Yuka was the one who lead the initiative to remove Zuko from his spot on the council. He was more than glad Katara had rid of him, but as she spoke on Zuko softened. 

Surprise overtook his features, and he tilted his head, a warm smile on his lips as it dawned on him where she was leading. He laughed lightly, looking down at his mug as she praised him, Zuko’s heart warmed. The prince was flattered, his cheeks going rosy. Katara wanted  _him_  to lead her council? She  _trusted_  him to be the next in line of all her affairs national and abroad? –Not happy? He was delighted. And, to train their son? Zuko was rendered speechless. 

“ _Me_?” Zuko finally replied, his smile curving to the side, moving askew in that special way that was reserved just for her. “I… I don’t know what to say, Kat,” Zuko spoke, running his hand through his hair with another bright chuckle. “Agni… except– yes, of course! I would be honored… –me? Are you sure? The whole council?” Zuko murmured, shaking his head, but still smiling. 

“Our son will be lightyears ahead of me within a  _day_ ,” Zuko boasted, smirking at her, still taken by such surprise at his wife’s offer. Zuko then took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m glad you got rid of them. They were no good to you, or us– our family,” Zuko emphasized. “I promise, Kat, I’ll do everything I can in the council to keep our family safe, and our country, and the world, too. I won’t let you down,” promised Zuko, bringing her hand to his lips. 

“… _And_ , I promise I won’t flirt with you across the table this time… not at  _every_ meeting anyway,” teased Zuko, kissing the back of her hand. “Not while you’re a walking watermelon anyway- you’ve got enough on your hands…  _in_  you,” jested Zuko, his gaze moving to her belly with affection in his eyes. “It won’t be long now until we get to meet her– since you’re adamant the next reigning monarch will be a queen, though, you’ve never been wrong,” Zuko spoke, looking back up at her. 

“Thank you, Kat. The… the position on the council, it means so much to me. ‘ _Not happy’_ … Kat, I’m delighted.”

* * *

“Yes, well, I haven’t told you the rest of it…” She held a smile for a moment, before it fell away with an apprehensive sigh. Stealing a sip of tea, Katara licked her lips, then ran her thumb over the cup’s edge, drifting back and forth between the blunt truth and a more delicate way of approaching it. 

She settled on blatant honesty, knowing he’d far prefer that than a rambling round-about answer. “I asked Tonraq to take over your former position,” she said, then raised her hands defensively, “and before you get up in arms, hear me out, Zuko. Please.” 

A beat of silence answered her, with his mouth halfway open, a comment hanging there. Zuko held his tongue, however, and Katara dropped her hands to her lap, folding them. 

“You grew up with an absent mother and an abusive father,” she started up again when his lips set in a narrow line. “You didn’t have your family, a whole family. Now, I know you’ll love this baby with your entire heart, Zuko; I know you’ll be a good father, but I cannot do to this child what your family did to you. I can’t let this child grow up knowing I kept her parentage a secret, hid the truth from her, and I will not force Tonraq to live out his days like his own flesh and blood isn’t running around my home.”  

“And, I’m sorry if this hurts you,” Katara added quickly. “I’m sorry if I-I’m wrong for this, but you won’t change my mind.” She met his look with firmness in her own. “This is what’s right; deep down in my soul, this is what’s right to me. I have to allow him the privilege of knowing his child, and being on the Council will grant him that. He’ll be close to her… and none of the city will be the least bit suspicious about the baby not being ours, biologically.” 

* * *

Zuko’s face fell in worry, but he nodded, listening to her explain. His hands settled back in his lap dejectedly as his mouth hung open with an interjection before she implored him to let her continue. Zuko sighed deeply, but nodded once more, his gaze left on the cup of tea as he let her words drift through the air and hang with an impending, heavy sadness. 

Katara’s husband met her gaze again when she spoke about his family. His eyes glistened as he listened, and her words resonated deep within him, making his features scrunch together in deep thought, worry, and consideration. She was right. It hurt, but she was right, and that was what frustrated him the most of all. 

If he was going to be a good parent to this child, this child he was raising as his own- his own son or daughter- he couldn’t repeat the mistakes his parents unleashed upon him. That was his deepest fear, wasn’t it? Zuko licked his lips as he thought on her words and his vision blurred, contemplating it all. It wouldn’t be fair, not to the baby, and not to Tonraq, to keep their child from him. Zuko remembered how angry he was at everyone when he found out he was a descendent of Avatar Roku, that that had been intentionally kept from him his entire life. And, for what? And, that was far less dramatic than not know your biological father, your roots. 

Zuko didn’t know how they’d explain it to the children already born, and he didn’t know how they’d explain it to this baby, either. It would be hard. They would have to be so careful. It could easily break all of their children. They could be angry, have questions, be hurt, and confused. Any of them. But, it would be even more wrong to just  _lie_. It would lead to more hurt, confusion, and anger. 

Zuko inhaled sharply, and finally looked up at his beloved wife. When he met her soft, worried gaze, he finally exhaled. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I agree with you… it hurts me, but I agree,” Zuko admitted quietly, leaning on his hand. If he had a child, and was asked to keep away and live this lie, and never be able to hold them, he would break. And, as much as he just wanted to shelter this baby and raise them with Katara, and he still would, but the child deserved to know, and Tonraq deserved to let the knowledge settle, too. 

“It wouldn’t be fair– to  _anybody_ ,” Zuko stated, his voice hesitant, like treading footsteps in the night. “And, Tonraq will make a good international leader. He’s a levelheaded man, and he’s proven loyal,” Zuko said with a small smirk, letting out another pained breath. He was hurt, but at peace with it, too, somehow. Things would be hard, but after all the hell they’d endured, Zuko had faith. He was full of trust, and mostly, love, that came enclosed with it. 

“Your dad would be proud of you, Katara,” Zuko told her after a beat, “I certainly am,” he added, a smile curving his lip as he held out his hand in search of her own. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re an excellent leader, and our son will be too, when he takes over head council, and our baby on the way will be too, a great chief– look at their mother,” Zuko stated, the sadness still evident, but the acceptance there too. Zuko smiled then, fully, and he tilted his head in jest, “One look at their mother, too, and it’ll be easy to see why this generation of Water Tribe leaders are the most attractive worldwide, too.”

* * *

“Hah,” she snorted, “my dad would likely crucify me for some of the policies I’ve passed, but… I think you’re right.” Katara shrugged, pensively sipping at her tea. “He’d be proud over all, especially with how I’ve handled this entire… baby thing. It’s exactly what he would’ve demanded be done.” 

Her eyes drifted down, heavy and hurting. Sometimes it came on late at night, the history she never quite dealt with. Much of her worries and insecurities within her marriage had been put to rest, thanks to Yugoda, but there was so much left, buried deep in Katara’s chest, and the woman was gone, now. 

Katara hid a side behind her tea cup, wondering if Gran-Gran would understand any of what she felt—the guilt over Aliya, Tonraq, and the coming child—or if the elderly woman would say the same thing: her father would be proud  _that she caved._

She tipped back the rest of her tea and left the empty cup on the table. 

“I think you’re far more responsible for the children’s pretty features,” Katara said finally, acknowledging Zuko’s comment as she undressed for bed. “Your slender nose and pretty eye shape… they got lucky having you as their father. You’re good, and you’re kind. And you respect me.” 

A soft smile graced her lips. “I know this is late coming, but I never properly thanked you for understanding my feelings on Sokka. I-I’m grateful, that you thought of me and wanted to help me, but… I’m even more grateful that you listened and dropped it. All I want is to keep moving forward.” 

* * *

Zuko stood up, stretching as he began pulling out the Water Tribe ornaments from his hair. He was weary, as he typically was when nightfall arrived, and stripped down to his pants before climbing into bed with a yawn. “They suit the children far better than myself,” Zuko replied, smirking as his head hit the pillow and Katara crawled in beside him. 

The prince sat up on his elbow in their bed, looking down at her with an affectionate smile. “No one is luckier than me,” Zuko told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly. “I have the sweetest children in the entire planet, and the greatest wife a man could dream of,” rebuked Zuko playfully, pecking her lips then before resting his hand gently over her growing belly. 

When Katara spilled her thoughts, Zuko felt guilty for bringing Sokka up, but he was glad he let it go. He could see how deeply shaken Katara was by it even being broached. “Of course, love,” whispered Zuko, rubbing affectionate circles on her stomach. “I’m sorry I brought it up at all,” he told her, thinking that she was probably right, too. There was no reason his uncle would keep Sokka there. The Boiling Rock was a detention center for only the worst of prisoners and was overseen by the Fire Lord. His uncle would have seen that the Chief’s son was on there– the heir, no less. His uncle fought for peace. He would never do that. 

His father had taken Katara’s brother away, like he had taken so much from everyone. “We’ll keep moving forward, Katara. We will,” he promised, gently putting his forehead against hers. They’d come so far already.  “I love you–  _so much_ , Kat… And, the baby will be here  _soon_ , we’ll have our heir, and a new member of our family… things will be okay,” Zuko assured her, lying back down while holding his wife close against the soft pillows they got years ago in Ba Sing Se. Zuko then smirked, teasing her, “I’ve got my new position to look forward to, too. Meaning I’ll find plenty of ways to get revenge by pinching your butt back with my new position as head councilman.”


	65. Chapter 65

“I know… I know, Zuko.” Bumping her nose against his, Katara stole a kiss in the dark, then settled down with her head under his chin. “I love you, too. You’ve been so good to me through all of this. And, that’s why I know things will be okay. They’ve already gotten so much better.”   


Though, there was no telling where things would lie after the baby’s birth… Katara worried her lip in the crook of Zuko’s neck. 

She could warn herself all day long not to think about it. When she tried to lay down at night, the doubts crept in, pervasive and heavy. And Katara felt guilty dredging up talks from counseling sessions, but she knew Zuko never minded talking round and round in circles until she’d exhausted the topic, and if Yugoda were still in the South, she’d tell Katara to let her thoughts out. 

“You know, I—” A shaky sigh cut her off, releasing butterflies in her belly.  She couldn’t get comfortable, trembling with anxiety now, so she turned her back towards Zuko and melted into him, hoping his natural warmth would soothe the aches lining her spine. Their fingers linked on her hip. 

“I think about Aliya a lot. I think about how this all feels so similar, how this baby might— might think I never wanted her. And I’m scared that she’ll resent me.” 

Katara breathed long and deep, fighting the lump in her chest. “I’m only pregnant because my first four children can’t be my successor. I’m angry and upset; I’m not looking forward to giving birth and navigating the truth with our children. I don’t love her father. What if she hates me for it, Zuko?” 

“I know we’ve talked about this all before,” she apologized, sliding Zuko’s hand over her bump. “It’s just… it’s getting close, you know? It feels so real, now.”   


* * *

Zuko could feel Katara getting upset. He could tell she was shaking with worries that were overwhelming her as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Zuko’s hand caressed her protruding belly in absentminded circles as he patiently waited for her to speak. He kissed the back of her neck and the side of her face, hoping to ease her into opening up. “Hey, hey–” Zuko whispered softly, “What is it?” 

It was Ailya– the baby on the way, everything on their plates they’d been battling since the process began. Zuko sat up, putting his hand on her upper arm, stroking her affectionately as he took a deep breath. Zuko licked his lips, wanting to be careful in his words as he knew how deeply this rang to her. The last thing he wanted was to misspeak and cause further damage. 

Zuko gave his wife’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Kat, there is no way in the world you won’t love this baby,” Zuko reassured her, moving his hand along as she guided it over her growing belly. “Just like our other four children, she will love you so much, Kat. You’re an excellent mom,” Zuko promised her. “And, I know… I know Tonraq is her true father, and he’ll have an important role in her life, and… I’m… I don’t want to take away from that. I can’t,” Zuko stated, “But, I will love her,” Zuko promised. “I hope she will see that, and grow up knowing that she has  _us_ – she always will.”

Zuko’s eyes softened, worried himself that he might not be the greatest father to this baby. He worried what the child would think of him once she was old enough to understand the truth. “It’s going to be hard, Kat… so hard,” he agreed, “But, we’ve done  _hard_  before– and if it’s for  _our kids_ , I’m certain we can do it again,” he said with a tender laugh. “And, no matter what, you won’t ever have to do any of it  _ **alone**_ ,” he promised. “I’ll be right here,” chuckled Zuko, nuzzling his scarred cheek against her smooth one. “Til death does us part.”

“You–  _We’re_  going to raise this baby to be a wonderful future leader, Kat,” Zuko told her, kissing her cheek. “There is  _nothing_  I am more confident about than your mothering capabilities. I know you might not have wanted these circumstances, or this timing, or this situation with this little one, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t want her– that you won’t  _love_  her. I know you will, Kat.”

* * *

Tears pricked at her eyes as she listened, head tilted to see Zuko’s bright eyes in the darkness. He hovered close, propped up on an elbow and trailing kisses, warming her up from the inside out. Her worries subsided, along with the tremor in her limbs. She looked up and saw his smile and it all faded. 

“Thank you,” Katara whispered, hoping her voice captured just how special she felt right then.   


If it didn’t, if it couldn’t, she hoped her kiss showed him. Skipping right past sweet, leaping into something that was bold and hard—nipping his lips, pushing her tongue past his teeth—she hummed low in her chest and slid a hand up his neck into his hair, tugging the thick, raven strands. 

She wanted him. It was quick and overwhelming and maybe she could blame her hormones, but she wanted him. 

“Zu—” His fingers raked up her thigh before she even finished his name. 

He knew her after ten years of marriage, knew her body and what it meant when she curved her back and pressed her ass into him. And, after it all, after the hard work and the pain, all of this was more frequent: the desperate, needy moments like they were newlyweds, lips reclaiming junctures and dips, fingers leaving bruises on skin. 

Her slip was yanked up. Katara heard rustling and fumbling, a hiss— she pictured his hand wrapped around length, then his hot, heavy cock prodded her ass. 

She keened, “please,” hardly wanting any more time to pass that she wasn’t being fucked by him, but Zuko moved her top leg up and back, hooked it over his as his free hand guided his dick up and down her slit.

He was going to take his time, make her beg for a bit. The pay-off was always worth it, but Katara had to bite her lip to keep from pleading with him immediately. 

Eyes drifting shut, she felt him tuck his head in the crook of her neck, felt his tongue brush her pulse before he sucked. She felt his heartbeat thundering from his ribs into her back, felt the cut of his hipbones as he ground into her slick. His moans were soft, his fingers featherlight. He traced her side, her breasts, plucked her nipples until they were aching and hard, drew swirls across her swollen belly. 

Katara laughed under her breath, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like me pregnant.” 

That earned her a groan, then his teeth found her shoulder and his fingers slipped down further, making fluttery circles around her clit as he finally slid his cock into her wet sex. They moaned in unison, but that was the only reprieve Katara allowed before she said his name like it was a command, and Zuko started moving. Fast. Aggressive. He’d pull all the way out before snapping his hips and plunging back in, making her take every last inch of him.

Which she did happily, praising him with murmers of his name.  

She was greedy; on edge. Her thrusts to match his grew erratic. Her breath was short and taut in her chest. Zuko sped up as he neared his climax, too, and his fingers worked her clit in a frenzy until—

_“Fuck!”_   


She came loudly and quickly, trembling, soaking his cock and his hand. She felt the twitch of Zuko’s cock, the jerk of his hips, the bruising grip of his hand on her leg as he fought it and lost and pumped hot cum into her cunt. 

The aftermath wasn’t pretty; it never was. But, the aftermath was there. 

Catching his breath and kissing her neck, Zuko pulled out of her with an odd, squelching sound and Katara followed him to the dry side of the bed, wrapping herself up in his sweaty limbs instead of the blankets. 

“That was unexpected,” she teased, tracing the muscles in his stomach. “Though, I guess, only for you, since  _I_ started it…” 

* * *

Zuko hadn’t expected Katara to deepen their kiss, pull them through ruffling sheets, and bring him over that sweet edge. But, he was lying back, catching his breath, smiling, and holding his wife close. If you asked Zuko when he was a teenager, if he ever could have expected a life like this, the answer would have been so far off from a yes. He never expected to be married off to the Water Tribe, let alone find it as his new home– and never find love and purpose here. His life wasn’t easy, it never had been, but at least now he could say he was happy. He had a family, and a role in world affairs that made a difference and gave him a sense of purpose. 

The former prince stroked Katara’s swollen belly as she traced shapes against his chest, lulling his eyes to a tired half-lidded gaze. Zuko leaned to kiss Katara lazily, smiling with a tender warmth that was only for her. “I  _was_  taken quite off guard, but I have grown to love surprises,” teased Zuko, a yawn capturing the tail end of his speech. 

Zuko turned his head, his lips pressed to her sweaty forehead and over the hair that clung there. He brushed the hair away, and let his nose brush gently against her skin with affection as his breathing steadied peacefully. “You should get some rest, my love,” urged Zuko, “No matter how many times we’ve told them to be careful with the baby on the way, our children will come bouncing all over this bed just as soon as the sun rises.”

* * *

“Well of course,” she laughed softly and sleepily, tucking her head in Zuko’s neck and breathing him in deeply. “Bouncy or not, I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are the best wake up call in the mornings.”

Katara fell asleep with a smile on her lips, and sure enough, all four of her babies came bounding into their bed, right on time with the rising sun. Laughter pulled the parents awake, squeals came as Zuko wrestled Iroh down and let the other three pile on top of him. 

Holding her belly, Katara slid out of bed and gathered her robe around her waist. She set off an order for tea and breakfast, wanting to eat in the master suite with her family before the busy day started. 

Zuko and Katara went over the changes to the council while the kids munched quietly on jelly-filled tarts and she told him what’d be keeping her busy until sundown. Paperwork, obviously. She had to oversee the surveying of space for a new library in the city. She was needed in one of the outlying towns for a land dispute that the lower chieftains couldn’t squabble out. 

It’d be late before she got back, but she hoped Zuko would be waiting up for her, at least.

Then, with a kiss for each of her kids, a shower with her husband, and a quick stop by her office to mail out the announcement of the Council’s adjustments and coming meeting, Katara left with a select number of her guard and rode out of the city.   

* * *

Zuko loved the simple routine they accidentally fell into. He wasn’t sure when it began, but it’d been now an ongoing tradition for years. The children would tackle them awake, they’d have breakfast all together before he’d join her for a shower, washing off the night before. Zuko was so relieved things were falling back into their normal balance. He was worried that he and Katara may have lost what they’d had, but things were normal again. They were content again, and despite his near-terror of being the dad to this baby, he was ready to take it on with Katara at his side. 

Zuko wished his wife well on her daily duties before sending the children off to their tutors. He kissed each of them goodbye until lunch time and decided to set out to complete his own onuses. Zuko grumbled to himself as he set on a cup of calming tea. He’d moved past his jealousy of Tonraq, but not his distaste, and this onus of his directly involved the guy. Zuko huffed as he poured the hot water over his tea leaves, impatiently tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for it to steep. 

Finally, the tea was ready, and Zuko used his firebending to adjust it to the temperature of his liking as he all but dragged his feet down the hall. Zuko took a deep breath, telling himself to chill out as he knocked on the door. Tonraq opened it with nothing but smiles on stupid, obnoxiously-handsome face. Zuko resisted the urge to roll his eyes out of his head and instead returned a smile to him. 

“Hello, Tonraq, um… how are you this morning?” Zuko said, suddenly feeling the awkward weight of the scenario. Zuko set down his tea on a side table, feeling the heat of being overly-conscious burn his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Zuko then set down his papers on the man’s desk, trying to ignore the palpable awkwardness that set in the room heavier than the fireplace’s smoke.   


“I’m sure Kat has spoken to you about your new position,” Zuko began, scratching behind his neck then sifting through the stacks of paperwork. “There’s about a million more where that came from,” Zuko tried to break the stiff air, chuckling gauchely before stumbling, then coughing into his fist.   


“Yes… so, um… head director of international affairs is not exactly easy, but it’s rewarding,” Zuko stated, “There are a lot of diplomats and ambassadors who come in and out all the time with demands and questions, and you just appease them all with assurances, basically,” Zuko explained. “It’s hard, following the war… my… family started, um… people don’t like the Fire Nation, obviously, and they have questions about the treaty… my marriage… which is weird ‘cause they’re then talking to me… about… my marriage… diplomatically– anyway!” Zuko rambled. Everything about this was strange, and made him nervous.   


Zuko shuffled through the papers more, meeting Tonraq’s gaze finally, as a misfit, red piece of parchment stuck out from the bunch, slipping out like a sore thumb without Zuko’s notice. “So yeah, if you have any questions or anything, I’m not as stupid as I sound right now, and I can definitely– I’m more than ready to help out. It’s a tough role to adjust to, but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it swiftly,” Zuko added. “Do you… is there anything  you want to ask right now?”

* * *

“I,  _uh-_ I don’t—” Tonraq cleared his throat, a fist to his mouth as he covered the sound and stood up. His chair screeched abrasively against the wooden floor but he couldn’t help noticing how much louder the silence was now that Prince Zuko had gone quiet.  _“—well?”_  


This wasn’t a position he wanted to be in. He knew it was bound to happen, given yesterday’s appointment to the Council and his complete inability to  _ever_ tell Katara no, but he’d hoped for a day? a week? before he was thrust into a room alone with the man who had to all but watch his wife get fucked in the very bed Prince Zuko lost his virginity. 

Scrubbing his face, Tonraq drug his hand down his jaw, then his neck, finally letting it drop to his side. The white tassels on his tunic fluttered gently. His gaze landed on the pile on the opposite edge of the desk. He reached for it, gesturing with a bob of his head for the prince to sit if he wanted. 

“Let me just rifle through this, if you don’t mind,” he suggested, already skimming the top parchments and setting them aside. Without much in-depth knowledge, Tonraq settled on organizing them into smaller stacks: Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, and Water Tribe, respectively. 

“It might be helpful to go over everything with you, just briefly, as you bring it to me. I’ve traveled a lot, which Kat—” His tongue caught; he glanced up at Prince Zuko and amended, “the Chieftess found useful, but the last thing I want to do is fuck up your hard work.” 

He chortled quietly, half a grin lifting the right side of his face, but the Prince’s expression remained neutral, albeit wide-eyed and slightly red. Tonraq dropped his eyes again, tugged the stack closer still and shuffled some things off into their appropriate piles. 

“You handle trade negotiations, too? And… tariffs, imports-to-exports…” He got his answer in the form of a chart from Ba Sing Se, relaying the costs of shipping goods south. “I think we could manage lowering this,” Tonraq remarked absently, “if Lord Iroh would be willing to share airship technology with us… a straight line above land is faster and cheaper than the train-to-boat system, but then I guess th—”   


Something caught his eye as he shuffled papers around, making him cut off. He was rambling anyway, trying to cover the tension with an air of all-business (honestly, Tonraq sometimes thought letting Zuko hit him would rid them of most of their issues), when his fingers brushed an older, worn parchment with  _Sozin’s_  seal stamped in the corner. 

“Why do you have this?” he blurted, forgetting any respectful pretense. His stomach dropped like a rock at the familiar lines. “Blueprints?“ Prince Zuko’s face was one of surprise, shock; Tonraq turned the parchment around, revealing what he’d found. “For the Boiling Rock? What… are you helping them revamp it? Maybe you could suggest they do away with the torture chambers.”

Looking it over himself, more closely this time, he shook his head. “And, this isn’t even right. This is  _really_ old, maybe Sozin’s first draft. The gondola comes in from the west side of the lake and when I was there, they had about eight more sentry towers.”  

* * *

Zuko awkwardly sat down across from Tonraq when he nodded for it. A deep, tense breath escaped Zuko’s mouth as he leaned into his hand on the desk. The desk was made of a fine oak found only in the Fire Nation. Zuko wondered how old it was, if it was made long before the war broke out, before everything went to hell all over the world.

He held back from rolling his eyes when as soon as Tonraq picked up his paperwork, he started already going off about something Zuko could have been doing better. It was something Tonraq thought he could do better than him. Zuko supposed Tonraq could add that to his list of things he thought he had Zuko bested at. There was being Katara’s husband, fucking Katara, raising kids with Katara, and  _now_ , negotiating and levying trade between the Southern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom. And, just being the international affairs head in general. 

Zuko no longer held any grief with Katara over this whole ordeal, and he didn’t want to strangle Tonraq at the sight of him any longer, but the man still had his eyes rolling so far back into his head he thought they’d fall out. “The Earth Kingdom still has reparations to pay from when they went to war against the Fire Nation over my sister’s betrayal of the prince and the South backed the Fire Nation. It was a fleeting, quick battle with few casualties, but having fewer casualties means greater expenses. We have to keep the tariffs high when shipping our goods to them because they need our oil, and it’s the only way they’ll ever pay a dime towards their agreed peace treaty negotiations following the Half Year War,” Zuko explained matter-of-factly, glancing up at Tonraq with vexation. 

“Now, I know you’re a capable man, but Katara isn’t one to greatly exploit nepotism, and it surprised me too, but there’s a reason she appoint–” Zuko began to establish his role as head of the council when Tonraq cut him off. Zuko mentally chastised himself, telling himself to cut his irked attitude for Katara’s sake. Soon enough there would be a precarious balance with a baby, and Katara and the baby would need him to do his best to be amiable.   


His thoughts were scattered like the papers on the desk and shotgunned when Tonraq was holding the faded, fraying, old blue paper. Zuko’s mouth fell open like a gaping fish, “Shit,” Zuko muttered, standing up frantically as he pulled the blueprints from Tonraq’s hands. “I need to be more organized,” Zuko mumbled, biting on his lip as his thumb caressed the side of the old, cracking parchment. 

“No! I am not  _revamping_  it!” Zuko retorted sharply, “I am not my father,” Zuko grumbled, shaking his head. “Torture chambers…? There are no…” Zuko trailed off, continuing to shake his head as he looked over the old map of the former world’s best- or worst- prison. “It’s used for international war criminals now. My uncle sent people there who had been charged with crimes against humanity following my father’s disposition,” Zuko explained with a defensive huff, but really he had doubts. He didn’t want Tonraq, of all people, to know about those.   


“Wait, what?” Zuko said, then dropping the map to the desk. “Hold on, what?” Zuko whispered sharply as he shook his head. “You were held at Boiling Rock? Wh-When? Why?” he questioned, glancing around as if someone could be in there eavesdropping. He bit his lip, hesitant to tell Tonraq the truth. But, if he had any kind of lead…  


“How-How long ago were you there, Tonraq?” asked Zuko, sighing before rifling through his papers, his thoughts now all over the place. He found more papers in a file he had all compartmentalized of the Boiling Rock. He pulled out the records, hundreds of death records of Southern Tribe prisoners, but not one of Sokka. “I can’t find any for Sokka,” Zuko whispered urgently, handing the man the rest of the papers, eager to share the information he’d bottled up at Katara’s pleas.   


“I spent weeks researching… I wrote my uncle for information from the Fire Nation’s remaining records that didn’t get burned,” Zuko explained. “There’s nothing for Sokka, despite claims that he died incarcerated,” Zuko added. “Look,” Zuko spoke, pulling another document carefully from the file. “Then, I found this,” he said, handing the other man yet another paper. “This is a discipline record of Sokka’s– its date is only five years ago. That’s far, far long after everyone presumed Sokka died. Sokka has been ‘dead’ as long as I’ve been in the South. Hakoda’s gone ten years now… I’ve been here eleven,” Zuko stated. “Why would Sokka have a discipline record?”  


Zuko ranted, itching to spill these secrets. “I tried to talk to Katara about it, but… she gets so upset, and she had me promise to drop it. I– I she talked me into letting it go. My uncle would have released him, I- I know that… especially when he sent me here to marry Katara as treaty collateral,” Zuko said, letting out a shaky sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “ _But_ …”

“No, no… I promised Katara. I shouldn’t even be… I told her I’d let it go. The last thing I want is to hurt her with this, and she’s right. There’s… Sokka is gone, and she’s  mourned, and moved on, and I- I need to respect that, and let it go too– let Sokka rest in peace,” Zuko conceded, but his eyes held a determination Zuko could never succumb as his finger traced over the maps. 

* * *

_“Hah!_ There are torture chambers, Prince Zuko. You might know them by their more humane term: coolers? Ring a bell?” On the verge of pissed off—was this really how it would be? a constant battle because the man couldn’t forgive the history with his wife?—half of what he said flew past Tonraq and he honed in on irritation, wanting to prove Zuko wrong. 

“They shove prisoners in them for anything and everything,” he spat, “leave them there for hours on end. And for those of us who don’t firebend?” He held up his right hand. “I almost lost my fingers after a day in one.” 

Of course, with an outward breath, the rest of Prince Zuko’s words sank in and Tonraq’s temper tapered off. Blue eyes focused solely on his hand; memories sprang up. 

Fourteen men coming home, one less than he and his team meant to rescue, one less than what would’ve saved Katara unbelievable heartache. He remembered her fighting to keep tears bay while she worked the life and nerve-endings back into his fingertips.

“It was…” His fist dropped into his lap. “I was twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven,” Tonraq said, far off. “Kat had been home two years and we were… together, so… spirits,  _fuck me.”_

Whatever whirl in the knotted wood that had his attention lost it. Tonraq looked up, an apology for his outburst in his gaze when he met warm gold. The truth, unspoken for twelve years now, felt heavy. 

“Our spy network had been compromised. A dozen or so men were captured and imprisoned; Hakoda sent me with a small team to infiltrate the prison and rescue them, which I did.” Short of breath, Tonraq felt his chest heave around a gasp, felt his heart hammering into his ribs because this could all be his fault. “Sokka was there. I tried to get him out. _I tried,_   _Zuko.”_

It was one of the few times Tonraq had ever dropped the man’s title. He leaned forward, holding Zuko’s gaze with an imploring look of his own, hoping he’d understand the decision he was forced to make. “Sokka made us go without him. He  _made_ us leave. We couldn’t get him out and it came down to twenty lives versus him.”

“It was already a huge risk taking those that we did and Sokka was heavily guarded,” he explained. “He told me to leave without him. We had our shot— he opened it up for us and told me go. And, based on what else he asked, I told Hakoda and Katara that he was dead. Sokka expected to be soon enough, especially for getting us out.” 

Tonraq bit down on his lip, another surge of images coming. Hakoda nodding through silent tears. Katara reciting the funeral rites. He vehemently hated himself right then for ever listening to Sokka.   


“Then… the war ended and the certificate of his death came with it.” Regret colored Tonraq’s cheeks. He rang his hands together on the desk, blinking his eyes clear to read over the other documents Zuko had shoved towards him. “I believed it… we all believed it. Until— _fuck,_  is he alive? Why would your uncle keep him there?” 

* * *

Zuko was taken aback by all of it– everything Tonraq admitted to. For a moment, it rendered Zuko speechless. His face twisted in concern and he sat back in the chair, letting it all soak in before a whole rush of emotions hit him. He was angry– at Tonraq, at the guards, mostly at the Fire Nation… his uncle. Nothing was adding up. And, Zuko was upset, concerned, worried– and frightened. If this was a lie, then what else was going on? What other lies were there?

“I don’t know… I don’t know,” Zuko mumbled, “I don’t know if my uncle knows… maybe someone is keeping information from him,” Zuko made up an excuse. “I don’t want to have presumptions about my uncle. He– he’s… he isn’t a perfect man, but he’s a good man,” Zuko stated firmly. “He means well. He wants peace. He cares for humanity. He isn’t like… my father,” Zuko assured Tonraq.   


“I see no reason why there’d be a discipline reprimand written out if it wasn’t true,” Zuko spoke, picking up the written reprimand again and reading over the writing that spelled Sokka’s name. “It’s not a common name, is it? I’ve met many Tonraqs in my ten years in the South, but I’ve never met a Sokka,” Zuko stated, meeting the man’s gaze.   


Zuko shook his head then, setting down the paper as the room quieted. “Does Kat know? Does she know you left him there? How could you do that? I know what he said, but… and all the other men, but you should have– you should have sent the other men off! You could have stayed behind to save him!” Zuko stated. “You were going to marry Katara, and you just left her brother there to die… you never even went back for him– why?” Zuko spoke, “Katara doesn’t know, does she?” Zuko asked, sighing as he put his hand to his forehead. 

It ran down his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry,” Zuko said then softly. “I shouldn’t have said that… that was… unwarranted, I’m sorry,” Zuko apologized, his demeanor humbling. “I’m sure you did all you could… you had a mission, and… if Katara lost both of you, that wouldn’t have done her any good at all,” Zuko murmured. “You’re just… less of an idiot than I am. I would’ve stayed, gotten myself killed, and Katara then would’ve been left with doubly a broken heart,” Zuko admitted, “My uncle always said I had a bad habit of acting before I thought. I thought I’d outgrown it, but I suppose much of it’s still in me.”

“There’s no filed certificate of Sokka’s death in the Fire Nation records, Tonraq,” Zuko added. “I found copies in the South’s filings that match all of them– all but Sokka’s, and… this discipline notice… Katara cried to me to let it go– let Sokka go, but… I’m too stubborn. I can’t. I have this… unshakeable gut feeling that my brother-in-law is out there, suffering, but very much  _alive_.”

   
  



	66. Chapter 66

Tonraq shook his head. “Katara’s stubborn has hell, she won’t let you get a word in,” he said, a defeated shrug coming. “And they’ve moved on, the Tribe.  _Her._ A part of me would hate to drag her into the grief, again, just to be wrong.”His mouth set in a grimace, lingering irritation rising and swelling until the sound of his teeth grinding was audible, even to the Prince. 

“That was Sokka’s only desire, you know,” he spat. “He got the fourteen men imprisoned with him out; he told us, as our commanding officer, as our Prince, if he didn’t make it, to tell his family he was dead so they could move on. He fully expected to be, anyway.” 

Tonraq glared across the desk at Zuko, blue eyes hard, then blinked and his gaze drifted away, landing blindly on a bookshelf against the far wall. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if he’s still there— they could’ve moved him or disease might’ve killed him or—” 

It was a dark thought. He tried to push it down, but he couldn’t help it. The few  _days_ he spent at the Boiling Rock were brutal, and Sokka had already been there two years. What little Tonraq knew of the man had changed, had warped to fit the rigors and horrors of that prison.

“There’s always the chance that he… killed _himself.”_ His words are barely above a whisper. “Sokka was a brave man, a great leader and a kind prince, but… that-  _that place.”_  If at all possible, Tonraq’s voice dropped lower. 

“If the guards ever found out about Sokka’s… preferences…” He licked his lips, shifted uncomfortably. He sensed Prince Zuko wasn’t quite grasping it, hated that he had to spell it out, but— “What they did to Katara, they do to men; we’re all the same to them, prisoners, animals. Then they act like we’re the barbarians, the sick ones, for ever wanting it. The Boiling Rock is not an easy place to survive.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Tonraq leaned forward, elbows on his desk. He hid his mouth behind his fists, body vibrating with the thrum of anxiety. 

“It’s a risk either way,” he said, a long beat of silence having slipped by, “going and looking and finding Sokka would mean… someone, most presumably  _your uncle_ , lied. And, not finding him? Katara will never let you back in if you give her hope her brother’s still alive.” Tonraq swallowed, holding Zuko’s eyes with an intense look of his own. “I don’t want to tell you what to do within your marriage, Zuko, but during my relationship with her… I learned it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.” 

* * *

“I know  _my own wife_ ,” Zuko stated firmly, meeting Tonraq’s gaze. “We’ve loved each other for eleven years,” Zuko stated.  The thought of hurting her, of putting her through this hell, killed him. She was so broken at the mere mention of him thinking of looking for her brother. If he announced he was going off now? If he came back empty-handed? Katara’s heart would shatter into little pieces. Zuko knew that. “I know it’s a risk,” Zuko confirmed, rattled by all the information.   


When the men held Zuko down during Katara’s announcement to fight alongside the Fire Nation, Zuko felt a terror in a way he never felt. He could only imagine what would have happened if Katara hadn’t come in just in the nick of time. The way they assaulted him was enough to rattle Zuko to his core. The moment still haunted him. It was a different fear than the one when his father would beat him. It struck different cords and rattled him in different ways. 

Zuko quieted as his head was taken back to that moment in the stable and the clammy feeling of the men’s hands on his skin. Zuko caught his breath, “If Sokka could be under such… duress… so to the point he may have wanted to take his own life, then… it would only be even crueler to leave him there, wouldn’t it?” Zuko finally spoke, his stomach twisting. He knew what it was like to want to take your life too. There were moments of suffering with his father, isolated with no one, in his teenager years that made him struggle to go on. 

He prayed Sokka found the strength and hope to, as Zuko had. There was always something to cling to. There’s always something to live for, to fight for. Maybe Sokka was holding out for something like this: someone to rescue him, so he could have a life again, be loved again, be safe again. Katara’s brother deserved that, and Katara deserved it too. She lost her father, and Sokka, and she deserved Sokka back. Katara deserved it so much. She gave the world for others, and if he could bring her Sokka…

“I don’t know… I don’t want to make any presumptions about my uncle. I understand you may not trust him, but… he’s a good man. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I… I wouldn’t deny facts, but… I’m– I trust him. My uncle is a loving man. He wants to see good in the world,” Zuko tried to tell Tonraq. “But, there’s only one way to find out for sure,” Zuko added.   


“That discipline record is recent… relatively,” Zuko spoke. “I’d had three children with Katara then, the treaty was long established,” Zuko explained. “Sokka might be there, suffering… and Katara is– she’s grieved, yes, I know. I know she’s moved on, but it’s a heavy burden in her heart. I know that too. If– If I did… If I could give her Sokka, she would be so relieved. She’d be overjoyed. And, I don’t want to hurt her. God, I don’t. She’s seen enough pain for three lifetimes. The last thing I want is to cause her a moment’s more, but… Dammit, Sokka could be waiting on someone like me– anyone– to not give up hope on him. He could be holding out on the one last bit of hope, and if  _I’m_  it… I  _have_  to go find him.”

* * *

Tonraq’s temper flared up before he could stop it. “No one is implying you don’t know your wife, Prince Zuko, but so long as you’re so fucking threatened by the prospect of someone else also knowing how your wife operates—” He grit his teeth in a mockery of a smile, head shaking as air hissed through teeth. 

“You don’t need t—” he tried again, softer, though frustration still leaked into his words and Tonraq glared down at his desk.  


If Zuko knew his own wife so well, he’d know there was nothing to worry about, but time and time again the man proved hellbent on asserting his claim despite Tonraq having none. 

“I know that you love Katara,” he said. “I know it’s been eleven years. I know you have four children with her. I know you’d never want to hurt her.” Tonraq’s eyes flicked up, cold and dark. “But, for fuck’s sake, I was with her for over two years before a treaty came into the picture. I loved her, and I never would’ve let her go. I’m  _allowed_ to recall the basic fundamentals of how she thinks and what hurts her. And, regardless of what you think, I don’t pose a threat to you, and my affections for Katara don’t pose a threat to you either, because all I want is what’s best for her, Prince Zuko, and what’s best for her is  _you.”_  


There was a finality to his words, and Tonraq let a moment slip by for them to sink in. He wished he could be so masochistic as to relive the conversations in the hut in which Katara could talk about none other than her husband, to share those conversations with Zuko so he’d finally understand that Katara loved no one but him… but, he’d carefully buried those wounds away and moved on from them.

_Eleven years ago,_  he’d moved on from them.

So, precariously, Tonraq shifted in his seat, picked up the blueprints of the Boiling Rock, and touched on the subject of Sokka. “No matter who’s responsible for this, if you found a way to look for Sokka without Katara finding out, I say there’s no harm done. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her and you may very well surprise her.” 

“But, you’ll need someone with you who actually  _knows_ the prison,” he stated, laying the parchments down. “And, you’ll have to be willing to leave your wife behind, your wife who just entered her seventh month.”

* * *

“I don’t think you’re a threat,” Zuko retorted sharply, ready to snap back at the man before Tonraq himself softened. Zuko bit his tongue, and bit down on his inner cheek to quell his simmering temper. Katara wouldn’t want him to snap at Tonraq. She’d hate it if the two of them were going head-to-head at it like this. She needed the reassurance that they could get along for the sake of the baby, the baby Zuko was raising as his own. Zuko then took a deep breath, and let go of his frustrations when he exhaled.   


“There will always be a harm in it,” Zuko replied, but not in a snapping fashion. Zuko meant his words, and meant them with sincerity. “There’s a harm in lying to my wife… it’s not right,” Zuko clarified. “I’ll hate doing it. It’ll have my stomach in knots,” he admitted, leaning back in the chair with a deep sigh. “If I come back with Sokka, she’ll know I lied, but the thing is when I frame it like that I see it’s worth it,” Zuko stated. “If I give Kat her brother back, then even if she’s furious with me… she’ll have Sokka back. And, Sokka… well, he’ll have a life again. He’ll be free. Sokka… Sokka’s my family, really,” Zuko stated. “I can’t… I can’t do that. I can’t leave my brother-in-law to rot… no matter how small the chance.”  


Tonraq’s words struck him, and that was a great factor. Katara was seven months pregnant. She needed him. Zuko had always been there, except the months she was off to war while pregnant with Hakoda. But, when she came home, Zuko was there, every step of the way. He owed it to her to be there. It was simply human decency. How could he not be? Zuko worried himself into a frown, thinking of it. “If I missed the baby’s birth…” Zuko whispered, putting his hand on his head, “Kat will think I wasn’t here because the baby isn’t biologically mine– she’ll think I was scared off or something. I can’t have that– I can’t do that to her,” Zuko mused aloud. 

“Shit,” Zuko cursed, clearly conflicted, he laughed then, gesturing at Tonraq, “And, I think we both know, you’d have to come too,” Zuko noted. He lifted the blueprints and waved them in front of him, “You said it yourself, I need someone who knows the prison. I only know it from legends, which you’ve clearly debunked. You’ve been there, you’ve seen it,” said Zuko. “I need your help… Sokka- Sokka and Katara need our help,” clarified Zuko.   


“And, every day we wait… something horrific could be happening, and… I don’t like to think about it, but… if I ask my uncle, clearly, he isn’t talking- if he knows,” Zuko spoke softly, that sort of betrayal scaring him. If his uncle would be so callous with the treaty that he specifically sent him there to achieve, that had the world on its shoulder, would hurt Zuko’s wife, his children, his family… Zuko shook his head. There was no reason to really believe his uncle knew.   


“I don’t want to do this to Katara, but… I can’t- I can’t sit here with a clear conscience when I feel in my heart that Sokka is alive,” Zuko stated. “That’s worse to me than leaving here and worrying Kat… and I hate that, I do… and the sooner we go now, the better chance we have at being back for the baby. We have to be.”  


“I’ll mull it over today, but shit… Tonraq, I think– I think  _we’re going to the Boiling Rock_.”


	67. Chapter 67

It was hours into the night when Katara returned to the palace. The border dispute had taken longer than she wanted—her mistake, letting the lower chiefs hold an audience with her, debate, then argue, then nearly brawl before she stepped in herself. She ended the day with new orders drawn for updated maps and left, weary and on edge, with loads of work still left undone.

Adding to the grit between her bones was the chaos she came home to. Screeches. Screams. Noise that made her grind her teeth. 

Her four children run rampant through the halls, loud as banshees, with Zuko egging them on. He laughs, shouts, encourages their antics as he chases after them. And as selfish as it is, it makes Katara angry. 

Riddled with cramps in her lower back, huffing through sporadic contractions, she stopped in the hall leading to her bedroom as glared down its length at her husband. 

“It’s almost midnight,” she snapped, voice hard and cold. “Why are any of you still up? Why is a _three year old_ still up?” Katara looked them all over, the bright energy on her kids faces, the happiness that ebbed away to dismay on Zuko’s. “Why did I come home from a miserable day to everyone shrieking, running amok… to complete insanity?” 

A growl under her breath, another wave of tightness in her belly, Katara turned on her heel and started in the opposite direction. “Put them to bed, Zuko!” 

She’d hole up in a guest room if she had to. 

* * *

Zuko spent the entirety of the day with his stomach in knots, as he predicted. He went to his own office, reading and rifling through stacks and stacks of ancient and recent papers. He wanted to be as proficient as possible in his new position as head of the council. The last thing he wanted was to make a mockery of himself, and prove everyone right- that he couldn’t do it. Zuko needed to show Katara she wasn’t wrong in entrusting him with this, and he had to prove to himself that he had what it took to run the council. 

It was hard to focus, though. In the forefront of his mind was the lie he had preconceived. Zuko hated lying, especially to Katara. They’d just spent months in counseling, discussing all about how honesty was the best policy, and being open with each other was the best way to communicate and feel closer to each other. So far, it was working beautifully. He didn’t want to uproot all of that. He didn’t want to stomp on all the flowers they’d just planted together and seen bloom.

But, Sokka… Zuko could only imagine if he was there the horrific ways the guards were concocting to torture him. Tonraq told him there were torture chambers, and if Zuko remembered anything from his childhood under his father was that the Fire Nation was nothing short in finding ways to both silence people and getting them to talk, all at the snap of their fingers. The mere thought of letting Sokka suffer like that, and the thought of his uncle deceiving him all these years, made him on edge. Add on top of that, lying to Katara, and he was an absolute nervous wreck. 

Zuko had come up with an idea to tell Katara that Tonraq wanted “on the job training”. Say there was an issue in the North, which would give more leverage for a time cushion, and Zuko was going alongside Tonraq to discuss things on behalf of the South. Zuko could pout about it and likely, Katara would buy it. She’d buy it because he’d never given her a reason not to trust him before in eleven years because he’d never lied to her like this before. He didn’t want to- at all. But, Sokka’s life was on the line, and Zuko swore to himself, and he would to Katara, that he’d be back for the baby’s birth. Maybe Sokka could be there to see the birth of his niece or nephew, too. 

As Zuko paced inside his office all day nervously, the children were growing impatient. Both their parents were busy and not paying much mind to them. As the night crept on, Zuko felt guilty for neglecting them all day. Besides, nothing took stress off like being with his kids. Zuko forced himself to stuff away the parchments and books and went to fetch his children from Gran Gran and Pakku. He took them to their family room and set on a fire before making them tea and having a servant bake some cookies. The idea was to ready the kids for bed as he read them a bedtime story with tea and cookies by the fire, but Zuko mistakenly gave the children a caffeinated blend.

That only escalated their energies, and before Zuko knew it, they were all but bouncing off the walls. Kya pulled Ursa’s hair, and then an eruption of a wild goose chase unfolded. Kya raced down the corridors, and Ursa chased her. Soon after Hakoda followed them, and of course, wherever Hakoda went, Iroh had to copy his big brother. The four of them must have awaken the entire palace with their giggling, and it must have been creeping on midnight. Zuko called after them to stop, but when Iroh hopped on his shoulders, their father couldn’t help but laugh. 

He decided the hell with it, to let them be children. God knew he hadn’t that chance. If he’d raced down the halls like that he’d have wound up burned and locked in the cellar. Zuko was glad to give his children this opportunity, even if it was full of a bit of agitation for everyone else. They were royalty, weren’t they? Zuko would afford their highnesses such a regal privilege this once.

He called down to them as he lied on his stomach and Iroh had a fistful of his hair like reins. “Yip yip, Papa!” Iroh giggled, tugging at his father’s hair, earning the little boy a laugh. Zuko sat up, remembering the stories he told the little boy about the Avatar after he met Avatar Aang. Zuko followed the kids in the hall, motioning to his youngest son to quiet so he could sneak up on them. When Kya, Ursa, and Hakoda came tumbling by, Zuko and Iroh sprung out to surprise them, earning shrieks from the three of them before Iroh bursted into thunderous giggling, peaked on his dad’s shoulders. The other three retreated, treading back down the hallway before a halting voice quieted them all.

Kya stopped first, Ursa then bumping into her, and Hakoda into her. They looked up at their mother, then glanced nervously at each other. “Kya started it!” exclaimed Ursa, pointing at her sister. Hakoda nodded fervently in return. “Yeah! It was Kya!” 

“That’s not fair! You two started chasing me, too!” Kya retorted, folding her arms over her chest.   


Zuko sighed, walking over to them as he shifted Iroh into his arms, holding the little boy close as he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Your mother’s right, it’s bed time,” Zuko announced, kissing his son’s cheek. “We can all play more tomorrow, okay?” Zuko told them, “Come on, off to bed now. It’s very late, and firebenders rise with the sun, hm?” 

Zuko then ushered his children to bed, kissing them all goodnight and blowing out the lights. He rubbed his own eyes with a yawn, and that tightness in his gut returned. The shakiness in his hands and limbs, and the swimming, sickening rut was back. He had to break this lie to her sooner than later and that meant tonight. And, by the sound of it, Katara had already had an awful day. 

The prince crept back into his bedroom, and opened the door, giving Katara a small, tender smile. “Hi,” whispered Zuko, closing the door behind him. “Shitty day?” Zuko asked, going over to the drawers to change into his nightwear. He glanced over his shoulder cautiously as he began to button up his flannel shirt. “Do you want tea or anything?” offered Zuko, sitting on the bed beside her. “Do you feel okay? I could… give you a massage?” he added. She’d always liked those during her pregnancies, his hands could heat up through firebending and soothe her aching muscles. “What happened? Did they give you a hard time?”

* * *

“They’re annoying, the chieftains,” she complained, rolling up onto her side, shoulders hunching when Zuko sat behind her. “It’s like dealing with little kids with them; everything’s a fight, they never shut up. So, excuse me, if I’m a little peeved coming home near midnight to  _actual_  children and even  _more_  yelling.” 

Katara placed her hand on her belly and hummed when the muscles tightened, “Plus I’ve been having sporadic cramps all day long, so I’m just not in a good mood.” She sensed Zuko reaching for her then, and snapped. “Don’t— I don’t want anything; tea or otherwise. Just—” 

Tugging the blankets to her chin, Katara curled in further on herself. She could ignore the guilt of shouting at her children and husband if she tried hard enough, which she did, eyes shut tight against the low lamp light. She had a headache and a back ache and a worrying concern that the amount of stress on her shoulders would result in an early birth.

Funny how she’d brought four children into the world, but this was the first child she felt wholly unprepared for…

But talking about it—the chiefs, the council, the pregnancy—was the last thing she’d like to do; at least, for the time being. Maybe in the morning, if her head was clearer. Right now, she felt muddled and frustrated.  

“Let me sleep.” 

* * *

“Um, okay… sure, sorry,” Zuko mumbled, fumbling over his words in worry of the conversation he was damned to having. She clearly was not in the mood for any kind of conversation, let alone this one, founded on lies and a clear stressor. Zuko twiddled his thumbs, sitting there a moment as he glanced at his wife who was bitterly clutching at her blankets.   


Zuko sighed and got up to get under the covers. He lied on his back, folding his hands over his chest before beginning to twiddle with his thumbs again. He hated this. He hated it so much. It was counterintuitive to everything he’d done before, and everything Yugoda had drilled into their heads about honesty being by far the best policy in a relationship. But, what if a lie could spare her heartache and bring her beloved brother back from the dead?

Zuko pinched his own eyes shut and exhaled deeply. It was now or never. He had already ran the plans to the point of exhaustion by Tonraq and they were due to leave around sunrise. Zuko was meeting him in the palace foyer. 

“Kat, um… I know you’re not in the mood to talk right now, but I have to tell you something,” Zuko mumbled, bracing himself for a sharp retort, but got nothing but a groan in response.   


Zuko’s eyes darted to the bedstand to the right of him, where a pictureframe holding a portrait of Hakoda with babies Kya and Ursa stood. It was done right when they were born. Zuko softened, then thought of how those girls would do anything to get their older brother back, too. Zuko pursed his lips, more determined, if even still sick to his stomach. 

“I have a meeting in the North Pole, or, I did before I transferred roles. Tonraq wants me to go with him to see how things are done and make sure he’s doing everything right for the South’s international affairs… I- um, told him I’d go with him,” Zuko explained, laying out his lie. Perhaps he should have consulted Azula first before executing it.  


“The meeting is in a week, so um… we’re heading out tomorrow morning. We shouldn’t be long,” Zuko stated, his eyes finally moving back to the back of Katara’s head where she lied. “We’ll be back quickly, long before the baby is born. Tonraq and I just thought it’d be best if he shadowed me… and it’s an easy… procedural meeting, so… yeah…”

* * *

_“Both_  of you need to go? You thought that was a good idea?” Katara threw a sharp look over her shoulder, catching Zuko’s tight expression in the corner of her eye. His were on the ceiling, focused and wide. 

Something wasn’t right; she didn’t like the sudden twitch in him. His lips were pinched in a line. He kept throwing nervous glances towards her. If she weren’t so tired, she might’ve had an easier time of reading him, but all Katara managed was an agitated growl. 

“If Tonraq’s so worried, why can’t you go by yourself?” she suggested, squinting at him irritably. “There’s no reason you’ll both be needed at a procedural meeting and there’ll be plenty of chances to have him shadow you in the future, right?”

Katara caught Zuko biting his lip, the habit only furthering her suspicion. “You really want to leave when I’m seven months pregnant? You can’t tell the North you need to reschedule? You can’t ask them to come here?” She propped herself up and perched on the edge of the mattress, a glare pinning him. “I hadn’t even heard of this meeting, Zuko.” 

“If the meeting’s so important, go,” she insisted, “But, you’re not taking the only other person with knowledge of and emotional investment in my current circumstance with you. Tonraq stays.” 

* * *

Well, shit.

That lasted about a solid second. Zuko rapped his finger against his hand as he tried to reply. He felt even more knotted up inside when he was forced to exaceberate his lie and explain it. Of course Katara would forbid that. She didn’t want to be here on her own. What if something happened? Of course Pakku and Gran Gran were here, but they weren’t in any sense the baby’s father.

Zuko was, by adoption, and Tonraq- well, it was his kid, really. Zuko glanced back at Katara even more nervously, catching her vexed glance from beyond her shoulder.

He felt incredibly guilty. “Of course I don’t  _want_  to go, Kat. The North is… demanding audience with the Southern representative over a domestic issue they… need assistance with,” Zuko mumbled. “I want to stay here with you, but I have a duty as the international representative to go to these people,” Zuko said, wanting to just throw in the towel desperately and say he’d stay right here.

“I suppose I’ll talk to Tonraq tomorrow,” Zuko mumbled, still tapping his fingers as his stomach swam with dread. Zuko didn’t want to leave Katara at all. He didn’t want to leave her alone with the baby’s birth so close. But, the least he could do was cave and let Tonraq stay. He could figure things out on his own. But, Sokka needed to be here. Zuko made a silent promise to bring him back for his niece’s birth. Zuko was going to promise Katara the same.

“I’ll be back for the baby’s birth, Kat. I will. I promise. I would never miss it. I’ll be here. I won’t leave you alone.”

But, it was unlike Zuko to go off like this amidst an important family event. He’s always had trouble putting duty above love, but really, perhaps, this was just another example of just that.

* * *

Katara shook her head in protest. “You  _are_  leaving me. You’re leaving in the morning, you just said,” she argued, heated enough now that she slipped out of bed. “Honestly, why is this  _just_ coming up, Zuko? The day before you—”

She snorted and crossed the room. The tea Zuko offered was sounding better and better, given her quickly fraying nerves. But, she was too angry with him to accept any kindness, so Katara marched to the door and sent one of the guards down the kitchen with her order. 

Chamomile; hopefully that’d put her to sleep. A small glass of red wine; she’d probably need something stronger.   

“I just can’t believe this,” she said, turning around. Katara didn’t come back to the bed, but remained near the double doors, arms crossed. “You want to leave for an apparently emergent meeting that I’ve heard nothing about— You and Tonraq both? I can’t— I  _don’t_  believe this.”  


She stared at her husband, face etched with doubt. 

And as he looked back, the pieces clicked into place. This was his out. 

Somehow, someway, Zuko guessed that she’d want one of them to stay. And, given his experience, his importance, she wouldn’t ask it of him. The meeting could be real—Katara chose to trust him with that, however stupid that may be—and he’d need to be there. 

Or, he could be leaving. This could be his well-planned escape. Maybe he’d be back like he promised, at least to see  _his_  children; not the baby he never wanted. Maybe he’d stay in the South, and he just wanted space to extract himself from their marriage. 

And… it was okay. She’d let him go. 

She’d redesigned the entire treaty in case Zuko wanted this. 

Steeling herself, barring any thoughts that tonight could be the last time she slept beside him, Katara pulled on a brave face. “I… I understand if you really have to go… just… kiss me and the kids goodbye before you do.” 

* * *

“ _Kat_ ,” Zuko began, seeing the panic and fear well up in her eyes. He  _knew_  that look, more well than he ever wished. Guilt twisted in his chest and he walked to her, taking her hands and giving them a squeeze. Zuko then moved one hand to tilt her chin to have her look at him.   


“ _Look_  at me, Kat,” Zuko stated, his eyes full of nothing but unbridled tenderness for her, “I  _love_ you. I love you more than anything,” Zuko assured her earnestly. He could see it in her, her  _fear_ that he wouldn’t come back, making him more and more tempted to throw all the planning away. But, Sokka–  _ **Sokka**_  needed him. And, Zuko had been on hundreds of alleged trips likes this, and so had  _she_. Even while she was pregnant, he went away two weeks. But, this was different. The due date was near. Zuko never left after seven months. That was his promise every time. And, this wasn’t “every time”. This was  _this_  time.  


It shouldn’t have been any different this time, and it was breaking her heart because everything about the pregnancy was different this time. “Kat, you look so upset, my love,” Zuko noted. “Please don’t be. I won’t be long, I promise. I’m going to be home, with you, for you– when  _our_  baby comes, okay? It’s just another meeting up North. I wish I didn’t have to go, really. I don’t  _want_  to go. I  _have_  to go. They demand it of me. It’s important, yes, but it’s nothing alarming. I’m coming right home. I’ll be home  _long_  before the baby comes,” promised Zuko, leaning in to tenderly kiss Katara’s forehead. 

“I’ll be in to kiss you and the children goodbye,” Zuko assured her, moving his hand affectionately over her growing belly. “And, I’ll be home in plenty of time to kiss  _this_  baby when she finally comes out to meet us.”

* * *

She wanted to say she didn’t believe him. She wanted to tell him it didn’t matter what he said. Most of all, she wanted to push and prod, fish for better answers to her questions:  _why are you leaving? and why now?_ It was all so unsettling, so sudden; she felt like she was floundering, drowning. 

But, Katara stayed silent, holding Zuko’s gaze with watery, blue eyes, too afraid of the answers he might give. 

Finally, he dropped her chin. She was able to look away, stare at the floor when he kissed her forehead and pretend the sinking feeling in her gut was there for some other reason. After everything they’d fought for—their happiness, their marriage, their four beautiful kids—she never thought he’d leave like this: so unexpectedly, so unnecessarily.

If only she had the strength to make him stay. 

Pulling her hands from his, Katara went back to their bedroom door. She sensed the guard before he could knock, took the drinks from his hands, and thanked him. 

The tea, she gave to Zuko, not a word from her lips; just a passive hand-off. The wine, she took to her side of the bed, sipping slowly at the edge of the mattress. Katara watched the light catch the threads of their quilt, ran her fingers over the silky gold and embroidered dragons until the wine was gone. 

Then, she climbed into bed beside her husband, laid her head on his chest, and promised herself… if she could survive everything else, she’d survive this.

* * *

Zuko could tell Katara was still hurting, still worrying, still wondering. He didn’t know how to assuage her that he would never, ever leave her. As he held her close, her head on his chest, as it was so many nights for so many years, his heart ached. Zuko knew he was hurting Katara, which was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 

He pressed his lips to her head tenderly as they lied quietly in the dark, only the small flicker of a candle’s flame by the windowsill. His hand traced soothing shapes on her back, and his other over her stomach, trying to ease her. “I love you, Kat,” murmured Zuko, his own stomach tangled in nerves from the lies and the sneaking around. He just had to keep reminding himself that Sokka’s life was worth the cost. “Goodnight, love.”

Zuko must have only slept then a couple hours, and he wasn’t sure how many Katara got in. He could tell she was as anxious as he was about everything, and as Zuko crawled up with the sun, he looked over at his wife who was finally asleep. A warm surge of love overtook him, and Zuko leaned down and kissed her cheek, lingering there a moment as guilt clawed at him. “I’m sorry, Katara,” whispered Zuko, stroking a stray piece of her hair from her face. “I’ll be home soon,” he murmured. 

Zuko had packed a small bag the night before, and he got changed then. The shower was lonely without her. It’d become such a ritual of theirs to bathe together in the morning before the duties of the day piled upon Katara. She’d always tell him that he’d made her an early bird. Zuko just teased back that she simply barely slept at all. That didn’t count. 

When Zuko came out, he tiptoed into each of his children’s rooms. He’d already told them the night before he was going on a trip, so this was to simply hug them goodbye. A jolt of fear struck Zuko then, remembering his mother saying goodbye cryptically in the night. What if something happened to him? If he never saw them again? Zuko shook the worry from his mind, and kissed baby Iroh’s head as the toddler babbled in his sleep. 

“Goodbye, turtleduck. Papa will be home soon, okay?” whispered Zuko, pressing one more kiss to his youngest’s head, “I love you,” he told his son, the last child he had to bid farewell.   


Zuko then took a deep, shaky breath, going back to his bedroom where Katara still slept. He hoped she’d still want his kiss goodbye before he went down to break how the lie had shaken to Tonraq. 

Zuko put his hand on Katara’s back gently, rubbing a soothing circle there to ease her from her slumber. “Love?” whispered Zuko, running his hand over her until her beautiful, blue eyes sleepily met his own. “Hi,” murmured Zuko, crouched over the bed with a tender smile. His eyes were soft and full of deep affection. “I’m going to be heading out soon to get to the North,” he told her, “I’ll miss you, Kat,” Zuko admitted, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I love you-  _so, so much_. I’ll be home in a couple weeks, okay? Everything will be fine. I promise.”


	68. Chapter 68

“I… don’t think it makes you  _terrible,_ ” Tonraq argued. “I don’t even think it makes you wrong.” He met Zuko’s look with a hard one of his own, jaw set against the image of heartbreak in Katara’s eyes and the anxiety riddling the prince.   


He couldn’t even imagine how Zuko felt. Tonraq loved Katara, but it was… it wasn’t fresh. It was something related to years and years of respect and friendship, not a life and four children and upwards of ten years spent in near marital bliss. 

Zuko’s panic was natural. It was expected. 

And the man needed a fucking drink.

Standing up, Tonraq rummaged through the few cabinets; there had to be something stuffed away in them. “Katara is… not that you need me to tell you about your wife, but Katara is stubborn as fuck. When she wants to be mad, she’d going to be mad.” He glanced over his shoulder, moving onto a different section of the small kitchenette. “Even if you went back now.” 

“She’ll throw up walls when she feels threatened and it takes  _months_  to break them down… and you know that.” 

His fingers curled around an amber bottle. Tonraq took it down from the cabinet, pulled out the stopper, and gave it an experimental sniff. Bourbon. Perfect. He poured them each a glass, Zuko’s a touch fuller than it should be, and clinked them together before taking a sip.

He exhaled as the liquid warmed his chest. “The fact that you’re still here, knowing what you’re risking with your wife?” Tonraq took another drink and held Zuko’s gaze. “I think that makes you incredibly brave.”

* * *

Zuko laughed in a scoff, though thinking fondly of his wife’s stubborn streak. “I know… I know how mad she gets,” Zuko murmured, sighing as he thought of how deeply she was hurting. He wanted to plead with her to reason with him– he wanted to tell her he needed to get Sokka, he’d be home, he would never leave, assuage her with how much he loved her. He prayed to the Spirits she knew how incredibly deeply he loved her. 

Despite it, Zuko smirked when Tonraq took out a bottle and Zuko sat down at the kitchen table, leaning into his hand as he shook his head. He was still wearing a small smirk, wound up, and feeling implored to take Tonraq’s implicit invitation to unwind. 

His smirk formed a real smile when the man, who he still resented, called him brave. It was a bizarre set of irony. He was here, drinking, with the man who fucked his wife. He should smash the bottle over Tonraq’s head, but instead Zuko rose his shotglass to his, making a comically bitter toast. 

Before throwing back the burning bourbon in one swoop down his throat, Zuko spoke, “The only brave one is my brother-in-law… and we’re going to find him.”

* * *

Tonraq tipped the rest of his drink back, raising the empty glass in response. “I sure as hell hope so. If we don’t, Kat will probably kill us both.” He said it with a laugh, but the sound was quick to die in the quiet, borrowed apartment. 

They both felt the gravity of the situation, and knowing what he did of the prison, if they found Sokka, he’d be a far cry from the teenage brother Katara remembered.

Tilting his glass, Tonraq watched the few drops of amber liquid chase around the bottom, then poured himself another shot. “Here.” He topped off the Prince’s glass, too. “To… bravery… or idiocy,” he snorted. 

“That’s probably closer to what this is, don’t you think?” The bourbon seared his throat on the way down, not as harshly as the first shot, but he still grimaced. “We’re the last people who should be pairing up to do anything. But… loving that woman will make you do some stupid fucking shit.” 

* * *

Zuko smirked, taking a whisk of his bourbon before setting it down and swirling the amber liquid in its glass pensively. He was still smirking, his gaze, which matched the alcohol in color, stuck on the small whirlpool made in the cup. “If I were more sober I think I’d punch you for that,” Zuko noted, then throwing down the rest of his drink down his throat, setting the glass down with a light thud. 

Zuko wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his head lighter now, though his mind was not much less quiet. “In the Fire Nation, firebenders like to skip chasers,” Zuko muttered, leaning on his hand. “We appreciate the burn,” added Zuko, rambling as his finger tapped the wooden surface. 

“I just hope Katara will be able to find it in her heart to forgive me,” Zuko told Tonraq. “I think we can bring Sokka home… even if he isn’t the same… at least he can have his life back. It won’t be easy, but he can take it back. Katara will help him… we’ll help him,” Zuko stated. “I hope once Kat sees her brother, she’ll see why we had to go- why we had to bring him home.”  


“I  _ **can’t**_  lose her, Tonraq,” Zuko whispered, shaking his head. Zuko was clearly still distraught, and still trying to figure how she could ever think he’d go for good. He knew her past, but she also knew him. Didn’t she? Zuko was the last person who’d ever leave. Only the impossibility of harm to their children could cause that.   


The prince pulled over the bottle, pouring himself another shot before gesturing an offer to his unlikely comrade. “We’re definitely the most unlikely duo to ever live, but you’re right,” Zuko agreed, smirking before taking another foolish gulp of bourbon. “It makes me want to throw you off the pier a little bit, so I’m trying not to dwell too much on it, but… there’s no one like Kat. I’d do  _anything_  for her. Of course, besides my children, I’ve never loved someone _so much_  in my life.”

* * *

He laughed a little. Nothing was funny; he knew that. But, in many ways, it was the only way to deflect the stab of jealousy that pierced his gut every time the Prince or his wife brought up their unyielding affection for the other— a flash of dark humor. 

Tonraq was happy for Katara. He was. She had what she deserved, someone who fully loved her. 

It didn’t change the fact that he could’ve been that person. He  _wanted_ to be that person. 

So, offering any comfort now was difficult. He thanked the bourbon for dulling any adverse reaction, and took another swig before looking at the man across from him. “I don’t think you’ll lose her,” Tonraq said. “If… if Hakoda’s death didn’t do it, finding out about Aliya,  _me…_ ” He shook his head. 

“You won’t lose her,” he repeated. Tonraq poured another glass before passing it off. “She loves you. I could see it all over her face… when we went off to defend your country, whenever I saw her in passing, when— any  _relations_  were had in that hut.”   


Tonraq sighed heavily, deciding to take the chance right now, while he had it. “I know you don’t want to hear it. You’ve probably battled it out with her a thousand times, but I feel I should reiterate to you that she hated it. She hated being there. And she wasn’t herself. She had on some mask… so the guilt wouldn’t crush her.” 

“Katara will be furious when we come back, with Sokka or without. But, short of  _truly_  leaving her? I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make her stop loving you.”   


* * *

Zuko gripped the now-depleted glass as Tonraq spoke of he and Katara’s weeks together entangled in sheets. His breath stuttered, his thumbnail scraping into the glass as his teeth grated. Zuko clutched it like it was the only thing tethering him to this very earth. It was only when Tonraq finished his thoughts did Zuko release his pent up breath in a flutter. 

The prince’s face fell from its anger then. Zuko dropped his hand from the glass, lying it limply over the wooden surface. His chest ached as his index finger absentmindedly traced the lines on the table, back-and-forth. “I hate to hear Kat was upset,” Zuko noted, letting his eyes fall shut, shaking his head. 

Zuko pursed his lips then, trying to let go his past animus. He knew Tonraq was only trying to reassure him. Tonraq had never meant Zuko any harm. He’d never meant their marriage harm, either. That was a part of the reason Katara selected him. “I know Kat loves me,” Zuko said with a warm smile, thinking of his lovely wife. 

“And… I know she wasn’t as miserable as… she could have been,” Zuko mumbled, trying to phrase it properly. “She felt comfortable with you. That’s why she chose you. That’s why I told her to stay with you, even when I was jealous from your former relationship and she knew it,” Zuko explained, his hand in between his glass and the flask, trying to decide if he should completely fuck over his liver or not.   


“I know she didn’t want to be there, but…” Zuko said, then scoffing with a smirk, laughing at the sheer insanity and irony of all of this. He caught this man with his head between his wife’s legs for God’s sake. “I think you made her feel pretty comfortable,” Zuko told him, shaking his head with a smirk. “You didn’t upset her. It was the situation,” Zuko assured him, which was almost strange.  Zuko jested with him then, “If  _you’d_  upset her, I’d have killed you by now,”   


“And, all this is definitely going to upset her, but… hopefully we can make it worth it. I pray we can bring Sokka back to her– back home, safe, where he belongs… so we can  _ **all**_  see the baby.”


	69. Chapter 69

The baby. 

Something in Tonraq’s gut twisted with that— be it fear or longing, he didn’t know. 

Most of him expected to have no real part in the child’s birth or life. First, he knew the women of the South to be independent in the birthing room. Husbands weren’t allowed inside, much less…  _mistresses,_  for lack of a better term. But, even more worrisome than the expected, was Tonraq’s nagging concern that, no matter what Katara said, Zuko would all but bar him from the child. 

Tonraq wasn’t family. He wasn’t necessary. 

He wasn’t anything really, aside from a chosen contribution to a line of waterbending heirs. 

Bitterly, he gulped his drink and left Zuko’s comment alone. He didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to let this man in on the fears that churned in his belly. 

He was a father, but he also wasn’t. He had a child, but he also didn’t. 

The glass clanked loudly against the tabletop when Tonraq set it down—too hard, but he hoped Zuko was too gone to notice—and stood up. 

“Maybe we should sleep?” he suggested, already fumbling awkwardly in the sofa’s direction. So many shots in such a short time left him bleary-eyed and stumbling, left him on the verge of spilling thoughts he’s not comfortable with Zuko knowing. 

Almost there, he kicked off his boots and tugged off his tunic, dumping everything unceremoniously on the floor in a heap. His body crashed down on the cushions. Tonraq raised his arms over his head to shut out the light.

“Drink some water,” he mumbled. “Hangover’ll be a bitch in the morning and Kat wouldn’t be happy if she found out I gave you a headache… and that’s all I want,” he muttered. “Kat, happy.” 

* * *

Zuko’s eyes couldn’t help but scan over the man, and a blush crept over his cheeks, the same way it did, shyly, when an attractive woman brushed by. Zuko shook his head, dismissing himself as he grew flustered. He’d had far too much bourbon. Tonraq was right. Zuko let out a scoff before heading over to the sink to down a glass only slightly faster than he had the liquor. 

The prince stumbled a bit at the counter as he set down his empty glass. He’d certainly drank too much. Zuko let out a sigh before tugging out his topknot and falling back on the bed. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the bed? I don’t mind the couch,” offered Zuko, but when he was met with an indiscernible mumble and Tonraq rolling over on the sofa, he crawled beneath the covers.

It wasn’t long before Zuko had dozed off himself, the effects of the alcohol taking their sleepy toll. Though, the alcohol covered the stress, it still lied restless beneath the surface, wringing out demons of its own. Zuko was pulled from his sleep in a nightmare he was all too familiar with. He shot up in the bed with a gasp. His skin was coated in a sheen sweat despite the cold. His pupils were dilated. His breath was deep and rapid. His hands were trembling. It took Zuko a moment to register his surroundings and situation. 

It was the same nightmare that had plagued him for years, since Katara’s pregnancy with Hakoda. This time it haunted him more, in fear he wouldn’t be able to be a good father to Tonraq’s biological baby. He wanted this baby to feel just as much love by their whole family. He wanted this baby to know he loved them as their father, just the same. They would be his son or daughter, as far as Zuko was concerned. He was just concerned for the baby. Zuko’s own father still had a vicious grip on his head, years after his death. 

Zuko glanced over at the sofa, hoping he hadn’t disrupted Tonraq’s slumber for multiple reasons. One, it would be rude, two, he’d sooner die than be forced to explain any of this, three, he was very embarrassed to have startled in a nightmare like this in front of him. Katara was the only one who was privy to his dreams: the good and bad. He yearned for her then, her gentle touch, her listening ear, her reassuring kisses, the way she could coax him back to sleep patiently, no matter how many times over the years he’d pulled her from rest. 

Zuko cursed the bourbon and his stupid behavior as he clambered back to the sink with a pulsating head.  

* * *

He woke to the sound of retching. 

And… a horrible, dizzy feeling that left him disoriented for the better part of a minute. Tonraq sat up, blinking away at the lingering drunkenness, trying to place where he was and how he got there.

Someone heaved again and he looked in the direction of it, barely able to make out the trim shape of Zuko’s and waist.  _Zuko?_ The night came back to him in a flood— bourbon, talk, Katara. She was going to kill him for this. 

Shaking his head clear, Tonraq left the sofa and stumbled towards the Prince. He didn’t touch the man, though his hand hovered an inch or two above his lower back. 

“I can help with that,” he said, trying not to heave himself at the sick in the sink. “The migraine, at least.” As Zuko straightened, startled slightly by his sudden companion, Tonraq pulled his hand back and offered a damp rag. “Here. Go sit. Let me get you water.” 

Tonraq rinsed the sink and collected a cup, filling it nearly to the brim before returning to Zuko’s side. He set the glass on the table with an apology. “I probably should’ve cut you off after two or three,  _huh?”_  he laughed, the sound aggravating the first pricks of a headache. He rubbed his temples with a sigh, knowing he’d be in much the same position come morning; it seemed Zuko metabolized the alcohol faster. 

Dropping his hands, he pointed out the water. “Drink that,” he grunted. “Slowly… I’m going to try something Katara showed me.” Tonraq made sure Zuko saw as water collected on his fingertips, an indication of what he meant. “There are pressure points in the neck and around the base of the skull… if you don’t mind my touching you. I may be able to alleviate your symptoms, help you get some rest.”  

* * *

Zuko shook his head, slightly disoriented. The alcohol was making his head throb and his heartbeat ring in his ears like a wrestling bell. He was still shaken from the nightmare, and the world around him felt like a haze. Zuko took a deep breath and stumbled to where Tonraq lead him to sit down. 

He pinched his eyes and then the bridge of his nose, letting his hand then fall over his leg before accepting a glass of water from… Tonraq. Zuko shook his head again, mumbling an apology. It was still so bizarre, being here with the man he walked in on eating out his wife. 

Zuko swallowed his reflex to get cross and chugged down the cool water, then wiping his mouth on his sleeve with a deep sigh. “Maybe should’ve had more of this and less of  _that_ ,” Zuko jested, nodding his head towards where the bourbon sat on the counter.

When Tonraq spoke again, offering him some healing to alleviate the symptoms, Zuko slouched in his seat. Katara had done this on him dozens of times, and all he had to offer was heated hands and tender massages. Katara’s healing likely was far better than Zuko’s warmed hands. Tonraq probably learned from Katara, she was the best in the business. 

But, what weighed heaviest on Zuko’s mind, worse than the physical throbbing, were the haunting thoughts of his dream and his fatherhood, and Tonraq’s biological daughter. 

Zuko nodded at the man in permission, but his attention was far-off. Zuko looked back up at Tonraq, pursing his lips and then letting his gaze drift, back to the dim light of the moon. 

“I want you to know… I’ll be a good father to the baby… your baby,” Zuko said, reluctantly muttering the last adjective. “I’ll love her the same as my own. I just… if I… if I were in your position I’d want to know that. I’d have to know that. So… I’m promising you, and you have Katara on me as collateral,” joked Zuko, knowing that Tonraq knew well Katara would have his head anyway if Zuko broke any of these promises. But, Zuko wanted to ensure the man there was no need to fret of it occurring in the first place. “I know you’ll be there, but… I want you to know that there will be no shortage of love for that baby, not from me or anyone else. She’ll have great siblings too– Kat and I… we have the sweetest children. You don’t have to worry for her.” 

* * *

“I wasn’t worried,” he said cooly, “not about that.” Sweeping Zuko’s hair from his neck, Tonraq pressed coated fingers to the bone just behind Zuko’s ear, inhaling as the water glowed a bright blue. “I know the baby will want for nothing, whether that be toys or clothes or _love.”_

He shifted his fingers up, following a tangle of energy along the base of Zuko’s skull. The man sighed, prompting Tonraq to smile. It fell quickly, though, unable to combat the doubts swirling around his thoughts. He could only imagine the knots that twisted through his own neck and shoulders, cemented there by eight months of doubt and fear. 

And, it wasn’t an easy thing bringing it up, no matter how vulnerable Zuko was right then, nor the vulnerable position Tonraq had him in. 

Still, he thought he should try; if not for his sake, then his daughter’s. Or son’s. 

“I want a place in the baby’s life.” Tonraq’s voice dropped an octave, carrying more weight than he expected. “I know Kat’s trying to give me that, but I need the reassurance from you. Not to negate what she feels, but you are heavily impacted by this, too. I know it changed your marriage. I need to know that your…  _animosity_  towards me won’t prevent me from having a relationship with my child.” 

* * *

Zuko inhaled sharply at the sudden relief of tension when Tonraq placed his hands on Zuko’s neck. His eyes fluttered shut and Zuko sat in the deafening silence a moment while Tonraq worked with his waterbending. The only audible thing to Zuko was the throbbing in his head and his racing thoughts. 

Finally, the man spoke and all Zuko could do was shake his head, a soft, but sad smile on his face. Zuko turned around then, looking at the clearly-worried man. “I don’t know if you know anything about my childhood, but… my father, as you can imagine, was more than just cruel on the battlefield,” Zuko told Tonraq with a sigh. “I never knew half my own lineage, either. It was kept from me until I was seventeen, and I found out myself,” Zuko explained. 

“I’d never keep someone with good intentions- good actions from their child… ever,” Zuko stated. “I would never keep a child from them– someone they’ll need… need to know,” Zuko added, thinking of how it did all pain him- deeply. “The way I feel means nothing. I don’t care about that. That pales to the… sheerest shade in comparison to raising this baby right. I want what’s best for the baby… her mental health. She deserves to know the truth… you,” Zuko said with a shaky sigh. This all tore him to bits. He’d like to simply pretend the baby was his own, raise the baby to believe Zuko was her biological father. He worried what the baby would think of him when she grew old enough to know the truth. He didn’t know how they’d do it without wounding her, but Zuko knew it was  _right_. 

So, Zuko assured Tonraq, “I’d never keep a good man from his child.”

* * *

“Then you’re better than most men,” Tonraq said. He couldn’t deny the relief pouring through him, unwinding the tight, coiled muscles that pricked at his neck.   


Moving his fingers down Zuko’s neck, he drew another breath, coaxing the water to glow and heal again. Another sigh from the man, and his touch shifted to Zuko’s shoulders. Quietly, Tonraq massaged the last of the soreness and tension from his back, hands lingering for only a moment before he stepped away. 

He sank into a chair himself, rubbing at pain behind his ribs. His skin feels clammy, evidence of the nerves running amok. “All I want is the child’s happiness. I don’t care about anything else, _nothing._ ” Tonraq sucked air in, held it there.

“I want her to know she’s loved, no matter the circumstance surrounding her birth. She has three loving parents.” Tonraq swallowed, then laid his head in a hand. “It’s not my place to say this, I imagine, but Katara talked about naming the baby Sokka, boy or girl. Whether we find Sokka or not, I think you should. It’s a proud name.” 

* * *

“Kat and I discussed it,” Zuko told him, sighing deeply. “Sokka sounds like a brave person,”  Zuko agreed, glancing over at Tonraq, noticing the moon’s light reflection against his radiant skin. Zuko quickly averted his gaze, a small blush forming on his cheeks when he caught himself staring. The alcohol must have still been getting to his head. 

“The baby will have a lovely namesake… a lovely role model, which… may be more than I’ll be able to say for my youngest son if what you suspect is true… that my uncle knew of this,” Zuko said with deep regret. If Uncle had known of this, done it intentionally, Zuko would feel deeply betrayed. Zuko insisted to himself to have faith in his uncle. They knew nothing yet.   


Zuko shook his head, which was feeling much better. “Thank you, by the way,” added Zuko, able to stand without the room spinning. “I feel much better, so… thanks,” Zuko stated, pushing in the chair before going back to the bed. The atmosphere in the room was still so strange. How could it not be? 

Laying in the bed, Zuko longed for his wife. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and worrying for her. He couldn’t erase the expression she wore on her face as he said he was going to go. Zuko wished he was beside her now, and all he could do was pray that he would come home with Sokka, and Katara could see it was all worth it. 

With that, Zuko used his firebending to snuff off the lanterns, and it wasn’t long then until the sun arose. 


	70. Chapter 70

It was always so frigid in the morning. It was gorgeous, watching the sunrise beam across the illuminated snow, but it was also so damn cold without the full gleam of the sun’s rays. Zuko was bundled up from head-to-toe, but bad memories and a knowingly-illogical link to vulnerability kept him from wearing scarves anymore. 

He stood beside his dragon, stroking the animal’s head as Tonraq held out a map. “We need to devise our game plan… actually, we should have been more thorough beforehand, but…” Zuko trailed off. “Last time I checked, prisons don’t have dragon daycare.”

* * *

“But, your dragon can swim, right?” Tonraq eyed the beast carefully before turning his attention to the map. He pointed out a small island, one within a few hours distance from the Boiling Rock.   


“We’ll fly to here,” he said, “rest up for the remainder of the day, then we can take Druk _under…_ he’ll bring us right up on the beach of the prison in the cover of the night. From there,  _uh…”_

He glanced over at the Prince, noting the mix of red and blue the man wore. Even if he finery of his clothing didn’t give them away, the jet black hair, the pale skin,  _the scar-_ – Tonraq huffed. “We’ll need to stay hidden until we steal clothing. You’ll probably be better suited to play the part of a guard. I can slip in as a prisoner, look around for Sokka…” 

“This is something that has to stay quiet,” he reiterated. “We can’t barge in as the Prince of the Fire Nation and Captain of Katara’s Royal Navy and start asking questions about the South’s second-in-line. Word will spread around, get back to your uncle— if this is something he’s a part of, he will not want to be found out. The ramifications would be global.”    


* * *

“Of course,” Zuko agreed, stepping up closer to reexamine the map. Whenever he saw a real-scale world map he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. The Fire Nation, when he was a boy, had always shown the Fire Nation to be disproportionately enormous relative to the rest of the nations. When in reality, quite the opposite was true. The Fire Nation was a small island.   


Zuko raised his index finger to trace different routes he thought might be the best way to get to the Boiling Rock, based on what he knew about their naval security there. Zuko finally exhaled the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. 

“I know…” muttered Zuko. It could mean treaty nullification. It could mean war. It would mean betrayal to the Water Tribe, and to Zuko personally. It would mean a disregard for all Zuko had done on behalf of his uncle. “Sure, I’m Fire Nation, but I don’t exactly have the most inconspicuous appearance,” Zuko alluded, sardonically gesturing at his facial scar with a small smirk.   


“Unless they’re helmeted at the prison,” Zuko noted, then looking at Druk. “That’s right, waterbending,” Zuko spoke, “You can bend a bubble of oxygen for us and Druk,” Zuko noted, remembering Katara doing it recreationally for them and the kids in Ember Island, and Hakoda losing his mind at how colorful it was in the clear water. He’d rather be going there now, but he had to go here so Sokka might have the chance to go with them next time.  


“We’ll get to the prison, and I’ll disgusie myself as a guard, unloading you in as a prisoner,” Zuko offered. “From there, we’ll find Sokka, then we’ll get him out. I’ll order them if I have to. I’m still the prince of the Fire Nation,” Zuko noted, then going over to Druk’s saddle, gesturing his head.   


“We have no time to waste.”

* * *

They set off shortly after that. Druk made quick time to the deserted island, landing just before sundown. They unpacked only what they need to cook, and Tonraq caught fish to eat. After a quiet meal, they slept against the warmth of the dragon, stirring again when the crescent moon is high overhead.

The ocean was silvery and calm as Druk slid into the waves, dipping under once Tonraq had them sheltered in a bubble. They surfaced once, half way, replenishing the oxygen supply and rehashing the plan one last time. 

It wouldn’t be easy getting in; it’d be harder getting out. 

Sometime past midnight, they made it. Tonraq caught the flashes of sentry lights on the water overhead. Timing it right, Zuko signaled for the dragon to surface and Tonraq took them into shore. Hidden against the prison’s high walls, Tonraq watched Druk slink off, careful and slow to avoid being spotted. 

“I can get us up,” Tonraq said lowly, indicating the water again. “The steam should hide us, but we’ll have to be quiet and quickly dispose of whoever’s up there.” 

* * *

Zuko watched Druk swim away until he couldn’t anymore. He had faith the dragon could handle himself, but he worried all the same. Funnily enough, he felt the same way about Katara. 

Zuko shook his head, focusing back on his task at hand with a shaky breath. They needed to get into the prison, and they needed to do it stealthily. “Let’s do it quick,” Zuko noted, giving his new partner a nod.

Tonraq drew the water from his hands, and Zuko noted that Katara’s lessons must’ve been paying off well. Reluctantly, Zuko noticed it in the tautness of the man’s muscles as well. Caught staring, Tonraq startled him when he held the water up, egging him to hurry up and get in. 

Tonraq used his bending then to propel them over the towered gates, smoothly getting them atop the watch tower. Three guards swiftly turned, pointing their bayonets at them. Zuko smirked, the prince was more than adept in hand-to-hand combat. 

Zuko kicked the bayonets from the men, taking one by the arm and throwing him off the edge of the tower and into the water before tripping the second and slinging him over the same. The third dropped his weapon in surrender before Zuko held a fire in his hand as a warning, nodding at the guard to hand over his uniform. Humiliated, the man leapt over the edge to join his comrades, sporting nothing but his shanty undergarments. 

Zuko smirked at Tonraq and sarcastically brushed off his hands before sweeping his shoulders in faux-bravado. “Piece of cake,” remarked Zuko, then sliding on the guard’s armor. “How do I look?” asked Zuko, then walking behind Tonraq, putting a hand on his shoulder, despite the man being taller than him. “I guess it’s time for me to report you to the warden.”

* * *

The faintest blush dusted his cheeks and Tonraq thanked his lucky stars the darkness hid it. He couldn’t be sure, but he  _thought_ Zuko was flirting with him; or, at least, showing off like Tonraq would in front of an appealing shipmate. It made him wonder if Katara had ever mentioned his innocent attraction the man. 

He shrugged under Zuko’s shoulder, smiling back with something playful in his gaze. “Not bad… would’ve been easier to sweep them off the edge with a wave, but I’ll never complain about watching a man move.” 

The Prince’s eyes widened just a hair, making Tonraq grin cheekily. He liked the guy flustered; the color on his nose and cheekbones was pretty. Married or not, it was easy to rile him up, even more so with their interests aligned. 

Snickering to himself, Tonraq ducked his head in the direction they needed to go, explaining under his breath. “Last time I was here, the empty cells were on the ground floor. We’ll have a bit of ways to go before we get down there… and there’s only one reason a guard would have a prisoner out of his cell this late, so feel free to play that angle a bit. I don’t mind rough hands.” 

* * *

Zuko’s cheeks painted the color of his newfound uniform, and he attempted to stammer a response. Stubbornly, Zuko pulled the helmet’s face guard down more closely. He wanted to punch that stupid sun of a gun, no matter how good he looked. Zuko huffed, and shoved Tonraq forward, keeping in part. 

“Stay  _focused_ ,” grumbled Zuko in annoyance. “We have to find Sokka,” persisted Zuko, still pouting beneath his mask. “I’m not doing  _that_ ,” hissed Zuko, “That’s  _fucked_  up,” snapped Zuko in a harsh whisper, shaking his head from darker memories. “Just– act like I’m… taking you to the coolers or something, I don’t know! Just be quiet! I can work an act. Before I came to the South they had me all ready to play perfect prince,” Zuko grumbled.   


He lead Tonraq down the corridor, and every soft step of their shoes felt like a sonic boom. Zuko nearly flinched with every step, but exuded confidence in the most pompous way he was raised how. 

    “Hey!” shouted a woman’s voice. Zuko took a sharp breath in. 

“Fuck,” mumbled Zuko.   


The footsteps padded rapidly and Zuko gripped Tonraq’s shoulder anxiously. The guard stopped, and she jutted her chin at them skeptically. 

    “Who are you? Why aren’t you at your post? Who’s this? Why’s he out of his cell?”

* * *

Tonraq felt Zuko freeze at the gaurd’s approach. _Immediately._

So much for all his acting and perfect princeliness. 

Growling a warning under his breath— _”go along with it, Zuko”-_ –Tonraq spun on his heel to face the woman. Her face guard was down, making it near impossible to read her expression, but if he had to guess he’d say she was unhappy about the nightshift and unhappier to be required to do any work during it. 

He threw on his best smile, a charming one, the same one he’d used on Zuko a second ago to make him flush so profusely. 

“Apologies, m’lady.” Being undeniably Water Tribe, Tonraq aimed for the Northern accent. “Li here was feeling a tad lonely tonight.” For good measure, he shrugged out of Zuko’s stiff grasp and put his arm around the firebender’s waist, plucking the clasps on Zuko’s uniform with his other hand.   


He didn’t take his eyes off him, playing the part of smitten lover like a coy feline. “I was only keeping him company… in return, he’s walking me home.” 

Was Zuko even  _breathing?_

Tonraq squinted at him, then stole a glance in the guard’s direction. On one hand, she looked like she believed it; on the other, she was outright annoyed to be standing there, dealing with it.  Fortunately, the woman didn’t seem interested in disciplining either of them for Tonraq’s loved up display—be it his charm or her own dalliances with prisoners. 

“Just get back to your cell and shut up.” She waved them along. “Li, see to it.”

Winking, Tonraq nuzzled the side of Zuko’s neck and turned them in the direction of the cells. “Oh, he will. He’ll stuff me full of that big ‘ole  _c—”_  

The female guard was gone and Tonraq was shoved into a wall. 

* * *

As soon as the guard was out of view, Zuko shoved Tonraq against the stone wall. He looked behind his shoulder pensively before turning her cross face to Tonraq. “What in the fuck was that?” hissed Zuko, his voice a harsh whisper, grated through his clenched teeth. His skin was as pink as Ursa’s dollhouse and he released a nervous breath he forgot he was holding. 

“D-Don’t do that!” Zuko growled, dusting off his chest before then swiping at his neck in an overdramatic display. Zuko then shook his head, checking back behind his shoulders. “Whatever, at least it worked,” he reluctantly grumbled.   


The prince gestured his head towards the next corridor. “Let’s– let’s just find Sokka,” Zuko affirmed. “This hall looks remote. You said they’re keeping him in a special place– for additional security?”

* * *

“He might be,” Tonraq shrugged away from the wall, wiping grit and gravel from his palms and front. “It’s been a while since we were last here. Chances are, after so many years of peace, security has lightened a bit.”   


He pinned Zuko with a dark glare, only brushing past him when the Prince nodded towards another corridor. That one led to the coolers, if Tonraq remembered correctly, so he grabbed Zuko by the wrist and silently pulled him in a different direction. 

More dangerous—or higher importance—prisoners were kept underground, below the rest of the cells. Tonraq pointed the way down, blinking in the near pitch-black but refusing Zuko’s offer to a flame. They needed to stay hidden. 

And, they needed _to talk_  apparently. 

He scrubbed his face, completely disbelieving that he even had to comfort such fragile masculinity. 

“You know I was just trying to save our asses,” Tonraq hissed, finding Zuko just behind him. “It wasn’t a come-on. I didn’t see you doing anything, so, I went with the only believable reason a guard would have a prisoner out at night.”

They descended a cramped staircase, halting at the bottom where the air was musty and cool. Another few steps, and they’d be on the level with the prisoners. “Go have a look,” Tonraq said. “I’ll keep watch… come to your rescue if any of them threaten you by flirting.” 

* * *

Zuko rolled his eyes as he walked down the vacant, eerie corridor. Zuko faintly used his firebending so they could see just enough down the hall. “A warning before you came onto and all over me would have been nice,” grumbled Zuko. He huffed as he passed by him, then going into the dingy staircase. It was suffocating in there. 

It was so dank in there that Zuko thought the air would stamp out his flame. Zuko crept on further, turning back, “I mean if you’re trying to collect my whole family, I should watch Sokka’s back for him,” Zuko sarcastically mumbled almost unintelligibly. 

The prince stopped at each narrow stair, keeping an open ear for anyone coming from the opposite direction where Tonraq stood watch. Zuko kept going when he reached the bottom. The room was claustrophobically low, and the walls were so tight they felt enclosing. Zuko’s stomach tightened as he went froward through the crammed hall. Finally, he saw cells. He brightened his flame, needing to see each man’s face. 

Zuko had only ever seen the old painting of Sokka from when he was a teenager. It might be hard to recognize him now, through weathered years of incarcerated abuse and age and maltreatment. Zuko held the flame to each cell, seeing emaciated men, sickly shells of former selves, and feeble people on the ground. It made his heart catch in his throat, and Zuko prayed one of them would have those undeniably beautiful eyes Katara, her father, and his eldest son held. 

At the end of the shallow room there was a cell, facing the others, but secluded. Zuko imagined these men were the worst of the worst criminals: murderers and rapists. And, Sokka was thrown amidst them all for safe keeping, for sick collateral. Zuko wanted Sokka to be alive, but he didn’t want that much to be true. 

His heart was racing as he approached that isolated cell. Zuko hesitantly held out his flame to the imprisonment chamber and the man inside glanced up. He seemed broken and like his own internal flame had been snuffed, or if he was anything like his sister, it was an ember now. Katara’s flame could never be put out. She was the most resilient person he knew. 

Zuko met his eyes– those irrefutable eyes. 

“… _ **Sokka**_?”


	71. Chapter 71

A voice as cold as ice filled the chamber. “What do you want, firebender?” It hissed, full of malice and agitation; and _brokenness_.  Tonraq knew that sound— the emptiness, the weariness— it’d clogged Katara’s throat with tears, left her with only a shred hope, and now he heard in another, a voice so familiar. 

Ditching his post on the stairs, Tonraq marched across the chamber to the secluded cell where Zuko stood, swept around him in one move and peaked through the rectangle of a window in the door. 

“Sokka.”   


It was him. The blue eyes. The dark skin. He hardly looked any different, in a way, and yet, so much had changed. 

The spark was still there, but his gaze was hallow to anyone who didn’t know him. His face was thin, framed by chin-length hair, his body hard and lean and sun-weathered. In the shadows of Sokka’s cell, Tonraq could make out scattered dishes and clothes and papers all around. 

He wondered if Sokka had ever tried writing home. 

Then his gaze returned to the South’s prince, to the tears that were welling up and over as recognition dawned on him. Tonraq forced his hand through the slot. 

_“Sokka.”_

“Tonraq?” Fingers wrapped around Tonraq’s, squeezing to brink of pain. Without the ache, Tonraq wouldn’t have believed him to be real. “What are you— how are– you’re here?” Sokka’s words cracked around a muffled sob. “How are you _here?”_

“There’s not a lot of time to explain.” He pulled his hand back, regretfully letting Sokka’s go, but he wanted to see the man’s face. Blue eyes and strong brows appeared in the narrow window, watching carefully. 

Tonraq gestured to Zuko. “We’re going to break you out… somehow. This is Katara’s husband, Prince Zuko. Sokka, he’s the one who found you.”   

* * *

Zuko couldn’t believe the uncanny family resemblance once he looked closer in the fire’s glow. Past the hallow cheeks, saddened gaze, and fragile skin, the man was irrefutably Katara’s brother. Zuko wore a small smile, thinking this was his children’s only blood uncle. 

His heart tugged thinking of how brutal they’d treated him here, and his stomach swam with dread thinking of who likely was the culprit. The important thing, however, was ensuring Sokka’s safe return and then building his strength back up. 

Thinking of it all and taking Sokka home– seeing Katara’s face, and that of his children- the sheer joy: it all brought tears to Zuko’s eyes. “Y-Yes, I- I found documents about you,” Zuko explained, noticing even the shared mannerisms Sokka had with his wife. 

Zuko didn’t blame the man for distrusting him. It could have been his own uncle who locked him in there, after all. So Zuko glanced over at his reconnaissance partner before nodding. The firebender then used his firebending to melt off the bars, leaving a big enough gape for Sokka to fit through. 

“At least it’s not too traceable. There are dozens of firebenders here,” Zuko said, then gesturing for Sokka to follow them. 

* * *

“It doesn’t matter,” Tonraq pulled ahead of them both, leaving Zuko to take up the rear with Sokka between them. He glanced back once, making sure the former prisoner had the strength for the rush to freedom. “They’ll know what’s happening as soon as dawn comes. We need to move.”   


From memory, he retraced the dark steps leading to ground level, and from there, navigated old halls and untouched corridors. It was his first attempted rescue that led Tonraq to these secret paths, formed by an eruption fifty years ago that caused half the prison to collapse. Prisoners were charged with digging the old construction out, but during the night, the area remained unpatrolled. 

It’s what allowed him to get fourteen men out; fourteen men who had fourteen years of freedom and happiness—families, jobs,  _joy-_ –something Sokka was denied because Tonraq weighed fourteen lives against one. 

He tried to keep the guilt from eating at him; he knew Sokka wouldn’t want it. Sokka was a part of the decision, any way, pulling the rank of Prince and ordering his soldiers to leave. Still, it ate at him, followed him through the hidden shadows of the prison as closely as Zuko and Sokka did. Knowing Sokka had been here, alive, knowing the drastically different life Katara may’ve had with her brother by her side— Tonraq wondered if he’d ever sleep again. 

He tried to shake his thoughts as they reached the end of a tunnel, with Tonraq gesturing for them to go right. 

“We go up to the coolers from here. Someone will need to get in one—the firebender, preferably,” he gave Zuko a pointed glance, “and loosen the bolts. We’ll take that down to the lake and I’ll get us across to the volcano’s edge.” 

Tonraq paused their journey for a moment, turning around to face Sokka. “Are you doing alright?” he asked, studying Sokka’s features in the glow from Zuko’s palm. 

He wasn’t the young man of twenty anymore; the roundedness to his cheeks was gone, chiseled to sharp bone and strong jaw. He’d grown taller, filled out into a man with broad shoulders and firm arms. But, fortunately, so much of the young innocence remained, the determined light that always won out in Katara’s eyes was present in Sokka’s, too. Reaching out, Tonraq put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder.

“We can waste a few minutes if you need to rest,” he said. “Zuko? You keep watch?” 

* * *

Zuko stopped while Tonraq held Sokka up while Sokka caught his breath. He was so severely malnourished. Getting a closer look made Zuko furious, and it made him hurt for him. Zuko was ashamed to be a part of a nation to take part in such an atrocity full of such injustice, especially in an era of supposed-peace. Sokka looked so thin. He could hardly move without needing to catch his breath, but if he was anything like his sister, the perseverance alone would be more than enough to get him through. 

“I can go through the cooler,” Zuko affirmed, nodding towards Tonraq. “I’ll knock it out, we’ll get out on it, and once we’re far enough out I can call for Druk,” Zuko explained, stepping out in front of them a few paces.   


Zuko leaned against the wall, looking at the shadow of his brother’s-in-law face in the dim light of his flame. “Resting sounds like a good idea. We can spare a moment,” agreed Zuko, “I’ll keep watch.”

Zuko kept a firm stance then, his flame upright, and faced towards the corridor’s entrance they came in. Behind his shoulder, Zuko whispered to the man, a small smile forming on Zuko’s face when he realized all this meant. “My wife misses you like all hell,” Zuko told him. “She loves you so much,” assured Zuko, thinking he might like to hear something warm after so much years of cold cruelty. 

It dawned on Zuko all this meant. Katara really would have her brother back. Sokka could get to know his nieces and nephews. He could heal. He could have a life again. Katara would have her family back. Tears welled in Zuko’s eyes, but a smile grew to one side of his visage. All they had left was to get out of here, and Zuko would get Sokka out if it killed him. 

* * *

“Your wife?” Sokka looked in the direction of Zuko apprehensively, the question so quiet only Tonraq heard it. When his eyes came back to the man before him, his voice was even lower. “I haven’t thought about Katara in years… or, I’ve tried not to.” 

“Not at all?” Tonraq asked. “Why?” 

“I left her.” 

“You traded places with her. You made a choice to save her.” 

“And, did it work?” Sokka’s gaze flashed with intensity, with concern, like this fear has haunted him for the last fourteen years. The silence that follows stretched too long— Tonraq wasn’t sure how to answer such a thing without sounding hollow. It made Sokka reach for him, fingers wrapped tight around his forearm. 

“Did it work? Did she get home?” 

He stole a measured breath. “She did…” 

“But not in one piece.” Sokka latched on to the dip on Tonraq’s tone. “What happened to her, Tonraq? Tell me what happened.” 

“It’s not my story to tell, Sokka. It’s not even Zuko’s, it’s hers.” 

“It is if I order you.” 

Tonraq’s eyes flashed hard. “Don’t. She’s Chief now, she outranks you and I promised her my silence eleven years back.”

“She’s— my dad’s not—” Realization was slow to dawn, but when it did, the tears welling in Sokka’s eyes were unstoppable. He bent forward, covered his face with his hands. Tonraq did what he could to hold him up, soothe him. 

“He died a good man. He was honorable to the end. He help stop the war, Sokka. He- he married Katara to a man who couldn’t be better for her.” 

“And a lot of good that did!” Sokka shouted suddenly. His voice echoed off the stone walls around them. “I’ve been trapped here, kept as collateral so that man’s uncle—” He straightened, jabbing his finger at Zuko. “—could sleep easy knowing he had leverage if my father or Katara or whoever decided not to honor the treaty! I’ve been trapped here because you went home and told my family I was dead.” 

“That was an order from your own lips!” Tonraq growled. “You think I _wanted_  to go back and destroy Hakoda? Watch Katara fall apart?” His chest heaved with every breath, only slowing when he saw Sokka’s energy fade, saw the angry dissipate to frustration, fear. 

Going back to his side, Tonraq slipped an arm around Sokka’s ribs and helped support him. 

“I did what you asked, Sokka.” His voice was a soft whisper. “I got those men home. I gave your family closure. And, I took care of Katara. She’s okay, now. She’s happy. Let us get you out of here and get you home. You’ll see for yourself.”  

* * *

Zuko’s heart hurt for Sokka when he watched him react to the news of his father’s death. It only made sense he wouldn’t know. Zuko wouldn’t blame Sokka if when he found out his sister was responsible that he’d want nothing to do with him. All that mattered was getting him home to Katara– to his people, his home, his nieces and nephews. 

When Sokka all but vindicated Zuko’s fears: that his uncle had betrayed him, betrayed Katara, betrayed their children, betrayed the South, and betrayed the treaty, Zuko wanted to plug his ears. He didn’t want that to be true, but again, it added up, even if it broke his heart. His uncle had thrown away everything– everything he built Zuko’s life up as– as nothing. He betrayed Zuko’s whole family: his own family. 

Zuko swallowed thickly. Zuko’s pain was a mole hill in comparison to his brother’s-in-law. He was broken for him. “Hakoda was one of the greatest men I have ever had the honor of knowing,” Zuko reassured Sokka, giving the man a firm nod, his own eyes glassy. “We’ll get you home, Sokka. Katara will be over the moon… overjoyed to see you. Our  _children_  will be ecstatic to meet their uncle,” Zuko promised. “We’re going to get you home. I promise,” Zuko assured him, leaning back against the wall, checking down the hall again. 

Zuko quieted, “It… it was him though? My uncle? He knew…?” murmured Zuko in a question, shaking his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe it,” whispered Zuko. “Uncle knew you were here… he… did that to you… to Katara– me… our kids… the treaty– the South…” Zuko angrily rambled, thinking of how he’d have to tell Katara, and thinking of how it was fair grounds to declare war. Zuko’s stomach swam with dread. 

“It… we– first and foremost, we’re going to get you taken care of, Sokka. That’s what matters. That’s what we came here for. I had suspicions you were still alive. I came out here with Tonraq to see if they were right. I’m  _so_  glad to know they were.”

 


	72. Chapter 72

“We can discuss the rest of it later,” Tonraq said, gripping Sokka tighter to his ribs in support. He asked the warrior, “You good? Can you move?”   


When Sokka nodded, the trio started their journey again, making their way to the coolers. Tonraq pointed out one on the end, helping Zuko open it then showing him the bolts he meant. Once the firebender had managed to undo it, little bursts of fire coming sporadically from his lips, Tonraq joined Zuko in prying it from it’s hold and lowering it down the sloped cliff. Sokka followed slowly behind them, navigating with care in the dark. 

At the water’s edge, Tonraq gestured for Zuko to get in, then took Sokka’s hand and helped him over the high ledge, and climbed in after them. It was already an oven inside the metal container, drifting nowhere on the boiling lake, but one push and Tonraq had a current moving them at an unnoticeable pace. 

Not a long while later, they were across, and he lifted them up and over the volcano’s ragged outcroppings with a torrent of water, settling them at the ocean’s edge where Zuko whistled for his dragon. 

Sokka pulled in an audible breath, looking back at the towers and the sentry lights that flashed across the dark water. “I feel like that was too easy. Their most important prisoner and I get… nothing? Not even an alarm? One measly spear to deflect? I’m offended.” 

“Would you like me to make a commotion?” Tonraq joked. “I can scream for you. Or, better yet, I can try to kiss Zuko… his gay panic will reach the whole of the Fire Nation.” 

Sokka raised a brow as Zuko turned around to face them. “You must be a bad kisser.” 

“Or a good kisser, depending on how you look at it,” Tonraq said, shrugging. “But Zuko doesn’t get to judge; he wouldn’t even let me land one on him. I nuzzled his neck to keep a guard off our back and he  _lost it._ ” 

A laugh ran through Sokka and Tonraq alike, with Sokka clapping Zuko on the shoulder as his dragon appeared in the water. 

“Don’t worry, brother; I have a bone to pick with your uncle, but I won’t—”   


Tonraq snorted behind them. “If you make a cock joke, he will literally implode.” 

* * *

Zuko was relieved when Sokka jested with him, but his face was a burning red as Tonraq prodded at him, and his brother-in-law joined in. “Th-That’s ridiculous!” Zuko exclaimed, “I’m married to your sister!” Zuko snapped to Sokka, then turning back to Tonraq. “Excuse me for not wanting people hopping on me with no warning,” Zuko grumbled, his face still bright red.

He huffed then, looking back at the prison, thinking then of what Tonraq said. It felt eerie. It felt too easy. Zuko was suspicious– the world’s most advanced prison and they got out with only issue from one guard who was easily played off? It almost felt like a trick. The prince had no time to contemplate it, though.

Zuko knelt down, beckoning Druk to hurry as the dragon dunked under and swam to them. He quietly poked his head back out and shifted his body ashore for the men to climb. He wondered if Sokka had ever seen a dragon in anything but battle before. Zuko patted Druk’s head, “Good boy,” Zuko said, scratching beneath his ear.

“Sokka, this is Druk. He’s huge, but friendly. He’s gonna get us home,” Zuko said, smiling proudly of the dragon. “Kat loves him,” added Zuko. “Do you need help up? We– We should hurry. That almost felt too easy.”

* * *

“Kat.” Sokka tilted his head like the nickname was odd to him, or maybe it left a dirty taste in his mouth, given the Prince’s use of it. Tonraq read the slight agitation to him, the itching need to seek answers without a clue where to start.   


He helped the warrior onto Druk’s back and climbed up behind him. He grabbed a spike along Druk’s spine when Zuko gave the command to take flight. 

_“Katara_  is doing fine,” Tonraq said, low. “She has four kids, her and Zuko. And, a fifth on the way.” 

“She’s pregnant? Again? La, I never even saw her  _wanting_ kids.” 

“She’s different… I guess, between losing Hakoda and everything that came with being a queen…”   


Sokka looked back at him as Druk rose higher, wearing a look of concern. “Still won’t tell me what  _everything_ is?” 

“Some of it’s hers to tell… the rest…” Tonraq stole a glance over Sokka’s shoulder, unsure if Zuko was listening or not. The firebender didn’t show any sign of it; maybe the wind covered their voices well enough.   


He ducked his head, keeping his mouth close to Sokka’s ear. “You remember the law about a waterbender taking the throne?” When Sokka nodded, a slow trepidation in the movement, Tonraq went on. “The four children she’s had with Zuko have been firebenders… and after Hakoda’s death, there was no way in hell that law was changing.” 

For a moment, Sokka looked dumbfounded. “What did Katara…” It dawned on him slowly, either from the expression Tonraq wore or the way he shifted in his seat. His eyes fell, and a heavy sigh came before Sokka shook his head, fighting a sardonic laugh. 

“So, you’re telling me I’m stuck on a dragon between two men who fuck my sister. Great. _Lovely._ Just what I was hoping would happen when I got out of that hellhole.” 

“For the record, I only fucked her. Past tense. It was purely… transactional.”   


Sokka squinted then, “Do not talk about having sex with my sister.” 

“You just—” Tonraq gawked at him, then let his voice return to normal as a laugh sounded between them. “You know what? From what I’ve been told about you over the years, you are exactly as Katara described. It’s good to have you back, Sokka.”    


* * *

It was always so frigid on Druk’s back up in the air. The wind hit your face, and it was hard to hear anything or get comfortable at all. Zuko gave Sokka his coat; Sokka needed it more than he did. They’d been on Druk’s back for hours, and the sun was starting to go down. Zuko was just grateful that they’d gotten far, far away from the Boiling Rock. He was in awe they’d managed to smuggle Sokka out, and he smirked, wishing he could be there to see the looks on the guards’ faces. 

What Zuko didn’t want to think about was the look on his uncle’s. He thought his uncle loved him, and still was looking out for him by all means necessary. He never thought his uncle would betray him and his family like this. Zuko was hurt– but he couldn’t deal with that now. He had to get his brother-in-law home– and safely. Sokka looked so weary, and the sun was already almost set from view over the horizon. It was beautiful, but it would only get colder. 

Zuko reined Druk down to the next island in sight. It was small, seemingly unpopulated, and Zuko lead them to a nearby cave, leaving Druk to watch outside. The dragon spooked easily and could wake in them in chance of trouble. 

When everything was situated, Zuko lit a fire, sitting by Sokka while Tonraq went out to gather some fruit. “Are you feeling okay?” asked Zuko, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. Here was this brother he had, but didn’t know– was deprived of knowing by his own uncle. “It should be about… give or take, ten more hours tomorrow until we reach the South Pole,” Zuko explained, leaning back. “She doesn’t know I’m here,” admitted Zuko. “I told her I was on this… diplomatic meeting. She… she was too afraid to get her hopes up. She didn’t want her heart broken again. I had this gut feeling you were alive, and… I couldn’t rest on it. She’ll be so mad at me, but, when she sees you– Agni, she’ll be so happy. Katara  _adores_  you. She’s expecting, and– we talked about naming the baby after you, boy or girl. Kat  _insists_  it’s a girl.”

* * *

Sokka laughed slightly, “Tonraq told me… and I’ve never known her to be wrong,” but the sound faded as quickly as it came, pushed away by the grim truth. He didn’t know his sister at all, her likes and dislikes. He didn’t know his home, his nieces and nephews, his brother-in-law. The South was another foreign land now, the walls of the Boiling Rock had become his house. 

Sighing, his gaze turned to the fire, and Sokka absently wished Tonraq would return to avoid the whole conversation. It was too much… being rescued in the dead of night  _and_ heaped with the knowledge that his only living family had faced mountains of hardship. 

And he may never be able to understand her again, if his worst fears proved true, but Sokka knew he could offer some sympathy to Zuko. They were brothers now, after all, no matter how ill he thought of Fire Nation folk. Katara loved him; that was enough. 

“She’s always been stubborn,” Sokka said eventually. That was a truth he was sure of. “She could be a mule for all she listens,” he chuckled. “And, the Katara I knew was protective as hell. This rule…”   


He stole a glance in Zuko’s direction, reading tension in the man’s jawline. “This rule about a waterbender being next in line? Katara’s promise to be my heir— to make her children my heirs because I’ll never have any natural children of my own—was the only thing keeping me out of a future situation like hers.”

The fire crackled in the silence, breaking it up. 

“Ton’s a good man,” Sokka vouched. “I only knew of him when Katara and I first left the South, and we met several years later, obviously, when he first tried to get me out… I trust Katara’s judgement, about him _and you._ ” 

* * *

Zuko couldn’t get over how much of Katara he saw in Sokka. Of course, it only made sense, but they were so similar it made Zuko smile with an odd sense of familiarity. Even funnier was how much Sokka was like his children, particularly Kya. Kya was always so wry, and even the expressions Sokka made were so,  _so_  much like his Kya. 

“Kat’s got an iron will,” Zuko said with a proud smile. He missed his wife so much it ached. He hoped Katara would forgive him. He hoped seeing Sokka would be enough to explain why he had to go. He hoped she was all right.   


Then, when Sokka mentioned everything that happened with Tonraq, Zuko gasped a little. He was surprised Tonraq spoke of it, but not upset he had. Zuko’s gaze lowered though, the topic still hurt him. He somehow, even though he’d only just met him, trusted Sokka with this. He knew without a doubt Katara would, too. 

“That sounds just like Kat,” Zuko spoke, a small glazing of tears coating his eyes, standing out from the fire’s reflection in them. “ _Selfless_ ,” Zuko clarified, picking at the dirt in his fingertips.   


“I know Tonraq is a good man. Believe it or not, I don’t think I hate him anymore,” Zuko said with a teasing smirk, “And… I’m looking forward to getting to know  _you_ , Sokka. Our family’s _missed_  you. You’ll be welcomed home with the widest arms. I know it’ll be hard– I mean… I can’t possibly  _know_ , of course, but… we’ll be here, every step of the way.”  


//////////

That next step began the next morning as soon as the day broke. The trio climbed back aboard Druk, holding supplies in a sack as Druk dashed through the clouds. He was refreshed from his rest and getting to eat, and Zuko wondered if they’d get home ahead of schedule. 

So much awaited them there, and Zuko began to feel nervous. Katara would be elated, first and foremost, but he’d have to address his lies– her hurt, her anger. He hoped he could make it up to her. 

Another worry was now with his uncle. His uncle had broken all trust that could be remaining. His uncle had forged in his word. Zuko was heartbroken by it, and he knew Katara would be hurt too. Their children loved Uncle Iroh. Katara trusted him diplomatically, at least. And, Zuko was terrified for his beloved uncle’s fate, but also furious for what he did, and scared because Katara’s rage would be perfectly justified. 

Zuko smiled when he turned around, yawning, and noticed Tonraq and Sokka together. Sokka was asleep in Tonraq’s arms with Sokka’s head on Tonraq’s chest. He hoped Sokka could find peace, and he hoped he could have the smoothest transition back home. He hoped they could gather that soon, and he hated to rouse them from their slumber. 

But, over the horizon, the beacons of light shone through. Little dots of homes and icy, crystal palaces made up the skyline on the white snow like a set of dollhouses. Zuko turned back, smiling wearily, relief in his eyes, “Tonraq, Sokka… wake up– we’re  _ **home**_.”


	73. Chapter 73

Rumors had run their course. It took only a few days, really; and in the two weeks her husband had been absent, Katara had heard each and every one. 

_Cheater._  
Liar.   
Fucking firebender.   


On some plane, she understood her people—her staff, handmaids, and nurses—were defending her, looking out for her by hardening their hearts to Zuko in the hopes that she would harden hers as well. The sting would be lessoned. The pain would ebb away. If only she could be angry; if only she could be furious. 

But, she couldn’t. Katara was sad, broken, defeated. 

_Where was he? Where had he gone?_  The questions plagued her at night, plagued her children as no word came from the North or Ba Sing Se or even Caldera, for that matter.  _Was he coming home?_  


Nearing the last month of her pregnancy, Katara had no doubt that Tonraq would return in time, but her husband— _her husband_ —she couldn’t count him a part of her life anymore. 

Going on eleven years, she’d fought for this marriage. Going on eleven years, she’d loved that man. Going on eleven years, she now believed someone from her past more than she believed the one who held her very soul.   


So, when new rumors sprang up, carrying word of a dragon passing over outlying towns and the edges of the city, Katara didn’t believe it. She didn’t trust her own servants until that very dragon landed, and she caught sight of the red scales that looked nearly dull in the drizzling, frozen rain and grey skies. 

He was back? Where was Tonraq then? 

She swallowed that worry, forgoing her coat and leaving her children in class—anger,  _righteous anger_ had finally come at last, spilling out like thunder in her veins—and marched from the palace into the courtyard where Druk waited. The beast shook water from his scales. He turned at her approached. He exposed the men standing on the other side of his body. 

Zuko, she knew immediately. She didn’t have to study him, even. His heartbeat was a melody she memorized long ago, as sweet as coming home. 

Tonraq, she noticed a second later, and only because her eyes were naturally drawn first to the man she wanted and loved— Tonraq was just as recognizable as her husband. But… but his heartbeat was different. It jumped with the same as Zuko’s did, rapid and quick, tightened with nervous energy. 

That was what she couldn’t understand. 

Until he dropped his hands back to his sides, like he’d helped someone settle on their feet, and Druk moved fully. Tonraq stepped aside, revealing the lanky frame that housed a beat she hadn’t heard since she was but a child. 

Katara stopped. She wasn’t halfway to him, but she stopped. The rain soaked her hair and ran into her eyes, but she didn’t care.

_Tui and La_ , he looked so much like their father. 

The tears were immediate; the breakdown, as well. She crumbled before a guard could catch her, knees hitting the paved ice and cracking. Her hand covered her mouth, barely muffling a sob.

Katara couldn’t count how many times she said it—  _you’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real_  — but then his hands brushed down her hair and her shoulders, and her hands wrapped in pants borrowed from Zuko, then a tunic borrowed from Tonraq, and he was on the ground with her, his eyes so soft and blue.

“Katara.” His voice was barely a whisper; so foreign, yet so familiar.  


And, as if he knew, as if he recognized the need for one more thread of proof, he pulled her trembling body into his lap and held her against his chest. 

She breathed in; breathed out. 

“Sokka.” 

* * *

The two weeks that had passed now felt like two years. Arriving on that shore was like a distant homecoming he’d only seen in quiet reveries. It was what Zuko always imagined it’d be like when he went back to the Fire Nation for the first time following his arranged marriage. But this, this was truly coming home.

Zuko was quaking in his boots, but the content and joy still filled his very being. Even in the cold, chilled rain, Zuko felt so warm to be home. He couldn’t wait to see the irrevocable joy on his wife’s face when she saw Sokka. He couldn’t wait to see Katara’s face, period. God, he couldn’t wait to hold his children.

Landing in the snow, Druk let out an excited puff of smoke. He was well-trained, however, and kept still, even if he rustled, antsy, when he saw Katara. The dragon adored her.

The prince climbed from his dragon’s back and met Katara’s gaze with his own as soft as melting honey. He gave his wife a small smile, despite the anger resonating in her. How could he blame her for that? He anticipated it.

Zuko glanced back then, nodding at Katara before stepping aside to give way to the very sight of her brother. Tonraq helped the frail man down from his dragon, and Zuko’s smile widened.

It was better than he had played out in his head.

Zuko held his breath, biting on his trembling lip to withhold the imminent tears when he caught glimpse of Katara stumble. She fell to her knees, and Zuko moved to go to her before Tonraq’s hand yanked at his shoulder.

Sokka, with all the strength he must’ve been able to muster, rushed to his sister’s side. There, they clung to each other like they were the last two people on earth. Zuko couldn’t fully empathize with such a warm sibling bond, but he could with deep love. And, he knew those two held that between each other. He saw it in his own children. He saw it everywhere in this nation. He wished he saw it everywhere at all.

Without realizing it amidst the rain, tears slipped free from Zuko’s eyes, only felt from the warmth they juxtaposed to the raindrops on his skin. Zuko was overjoyed to see Katara so happy, and to see Sokka so relieved. It vindicated to him that everything had been worth it. His hunch was right. There were no reasons to regret. Sokka was home; Katara had her brother back.

Zuko crept over in the snow then, not knowing how long they’d all been standing there as the siblings knelt in their reuniting embrace. Zuko, with tears in his eyes, put a hand on Katara’s back lovingly.

“I _’_ m _here_.”

* * *

She’d never felt so utterly complete. 

The only thing that could possibly better this reunion was her father being here for it, but Katara’s heart swelled in Sokka’s embrace and her soul felt as though she may fully heal someday, somehow. Right then, all that mattered was her brother; the sturdiness with which he supported her and the warmth that shielded her from the rain. 

She could’ve remained like this all day, getting soaked to the bone. Katara was afraid to let go of him, afraid he’d disappear if she did. But, she felt Zuko’s hand brush her back. 

_‘I’m here,’_ he said.   


Katara lifted her face from Sokka’s neck, and she eyed her husband solemnly. “You’re here.” 

The sweeping anger was gone; she had her brother back, how could she be angry with Zuko for giving her that? It seemed unfair. 

Still, the rampant doubt, the days of wondering and insecurities weren’t so easily forgotten. She’d have to choke that down, accept that her husband had lied and vanished for her, not to escape her. Katara’s gaze fell away from him, flicked across the courtyard and landed on Tonraq. 

He knew, too. He could’ve calmed her and, instead, he lied to her. She had Sokka back, but both of them lied to her. 

Swallowing—it wasn’t important right now—Katara stood with Sokka’s help and brushed past her husband. 

It seemed surreal to lead Sokka into the palace, his home for so long, then hollow for all the years he was gone. She couldn’t even fathom it, and perhaps it was a story to pull from Zuko and Tonraq; all she wanted to do then was hold Sokka’s hand, check if he needed healing, get some warm food into him. 

Spirits,  _what did she even say to him?_

Her brain rattled around as she stepped out of the rain with him. The hall echoed with water dripping off of them. Katara stopped in the main foyer, drying them both with a simple flick of her hands— her fingers wrapped around Sokka’s biceps.

“Sokka, I—”   


“Chieftess, I’ve been searching high and low for you. Would y—” A councilman’s nasally voice was cut short when he fully looked over the pair standing in the foyer. “My word. Prince S—”   


“Find a servant and get us tea,” Katara snapped. This moment wouldn’t be ruined by questions, wouldn’t be impacted by the ripples sure to felt all around the world. She refused to even think of such things. “We’ll be in my private study. Have it sent there.” 

* * *

Zuko watched with a warm smile as the sibling duo walked off, hand-in-hand. Tears still wet at Zuko’s lashes, and he swiped them away. He wanted to talk to Katara– he needed to. He needed to check in on her, make sure she was okay, and apologize. But, it could wait. Katara had just gotten her brother back from the dead after a dozen years. He could wait. 

His children could not. Zuko then set back inside to the warmth of the palace to greet his children, knocking at each of their doors with a sneaky smile on his face. The kids leapt at him. Zuko cuddled little Iroh in his arms as he hugged and kissed the rest of his babies. He was so happy to see them again, and promised to take them out to see a show in the theaters to make up for coming back empty-handed, at least in a material sense. Zuko promised he brought back the best present of all. 

Before introducing Sokka to his nieces and nephews, Zuko wanted to check in with Katara. He was sure Sokka needed rest, and he didn’t want to overwhelm the man. It’d now been a few hours since they’d arrived back. Zuko had changed into warm, more comfortable clothes after taking a hot shower. He was exhausted himself from keeping watch on Druk all night, and the ordeal they’d been through in the past weeks. 

Zuko knocked on his wife’s study before opening the door and giving her a small smile. “Katara,” began Zuko softly, sitting in the chair across from her desk. “How’s Sokka doing?” he asked. “I’m sure he’s happy to be home, but… I imagine it’s overwhelming,” Zuko stated, then taking a deep breath. 

“For you, too,” added Zuko. “I know this is a lot– Sokka home so suddenly, out of the blue,” he whispered, then smiled softly, his eyes scanning over her paperwork. “I’m so happy I found him… I just… I knew he was out there, deep down, I could feel it– and then Tonraq gave me more evidence, so we… we had to go,” Zuko murmured, then meeting his wife’s gaze.   


“I’m sorry I lied to you, Kat,” Zuko apologized sincerely. “I didn’t want to. I really didn’t. But… even worse, I didn’t want to break your heart if I came back without him– you told me how much that’d have hurt you, and I just couldn’t–” Zuko trailed off, sighing. “And… I- I’m sorry I left,” Zuko told her. “I really didn’t want to do that,” Zuko emphasized.   


“Are you okay? The baby will be here so soon,” Zuko spoke with a small smile, wary. He glanced over at Katara, her face seemed hallow, especially for a pregnant woman– a woman he saw pregnant four times now. “Kat… my love, are you– are you all right? Really, are you? Are you okay?”

* * *

“Sokka’s alright. He went to lie down,” she said. Katara kept her eyes down on the desk, hands on her belly protectively. “And, I’m alright. I think.” It was hard to know, really. Her stomach still held knots and her heart fluttered anxiously from the close proximity of her husband.   


But, it felt selfish to voice what his sudden departure had done to her. He’d gone after her brother, knowing she wouldn’t support it, knowing that leaving with a lie on his lips would damage the faith she had in him— he still did it, no matter his personal cost. For her. 

Katara thumbed a worn page, eyes blurring. “We… I don’t know, it’s hard to say we _talked,”_  she said, addressing Sokka’s return. “We mostly sat in here and laughed nervously.” 

“You know that feeling when someone you once considered your best friend appears in your life again?” She finally looked up, blue eyes too wide for her face and settling on Zuko like he had answers. “Where do I begin with him? What do I say to him?” Katara let a sigh out. “I guess Tonraq told him about the baby… not Aliya. This one.” 

She rounded her fingers out on her stomach, feeling affectionately for the little flutters and kicks that always came when she was still too long.    


“I suppose I’ll need to tell him everything soon…” Katara whispered. A familiar trepidation settled in her gut, like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. “But where do I start?” she repeated, laughing sadly as tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “How do I… how do I ask forgiveness for letting him rot in prison… all for nothing? His sacrifice didn’t save me.” 

* * *

Zuko gave Katara an encouraging gaze, reaching across her desk to hold her hand. He gave the chieftess’ hand a tender squeeze, and smiled softly at her, reaching, too, for the right words to say– to soothe her. “I don’t think there’s any rush for that,” Zuko replied, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. “For now, you can focus on helping Sokka heal, and… I- I’ll help you both with that, if you’d want me. You have to focus on the baby too, and yourself,” Zuko added, giving her a tender smile as he glanced over her growing bump. 

“And, Kat,” Zuko said, trying to grab her attention with a sense of urgency and worried-seriousness to his inflection. “You didn’t ‘let’ anything happen to Sokka. None of this is even remotely your fault. Sokka had Tonraq say he was dead because he was sure he would be as soon as Sokka got the other men out. Sokka thought a dozen lives were more valuable than his one, and… he was a worthy exchange to the Fire Nation… to… to my uncle,” Zuko muttered, ashamed- betrayed.   


He shook the thought, focusing on his wife, his family, his brother-in-law. They needed him. They were at the forefront to him. “There’s no rush to tell Sokka the other things. You have a lifetime, now. Just… I think it’d be best for Sokka to take it day-by-day. He’s… been through a lot,” Zuko spoke. “You have too, my love,” Zuko whispered, meeting her pretty gaze. 

“If I were Sokka… and of course, we can’t know, and… everyone’s different, but… just getting back into the swing of things, the everyday things– getting used to being normal again, meeting the kids, spending time with the people he loves, and healing– coming to terms with it all,” Zuko tried to explain, “I think that’ll work best, and… you always seem to come up with the right thing to say and I have full faith that you’ll, in time, when time comes, be able to help pull your brother through this, too.”


	74. Chapter 74

“I know… I know, Zuko.” She squeezed his fingers firmly, calming at the familiar warmth and the strength in his hands. 

She always marveled at his palms, at the pads of his fingertips; they were roughed by callouses, hardened by sword drills in the training yard, as was the rest of his body. And yet, he was consistently gentle, soft— the opposite of what she’d learned and experienced at the whims of other firebenders. 

Wanting more of that softness, wanting to be held, Katara dropped Zuko’s hand to move around her desk, then took it again. She pulled him the chair to the sofa, where they had the space to curl up together. Situating herself between his legs, with her head on his chest, Katara sighed heavily and closed her eyes. 

“There’s even more to consider,” she said, “beyond Sokka and I.” This subject would be difficult, even divisive, if she didn’t chose her words carefully. “Sokka told me the conditions of his imprisonment… how your uncle wanted to protect your life by holding his… my people will expect action, Zuko _._ And, I will tak _e_ action— we cannot have a man so willing to connive and lie on the Fire Nation’s throne.” 

* * *

Zuko was relieved to pull Katara into his arms. He’d yearned for her so on those two weeks at sea, and finally, things felt right as she laid there in his arms. Zuko stroked Katara’s back tenderly, letting his eyes flutter shut while she voiced her worries. 

His eyes reopened when Katara piqued the subject. Zuko took a deep, shaky breath. He knew this would have to come up eventually. He’d been bracing for it since the moment he uncovered the truth himself. Zuko held Katara tighter, his gaze moving worriedly to the window. 

“I know,” Zuko agreed solemnly, his hands tangling into her hair and clothes. Tears pooled in Zuko’s eyes despite himself. He was  _afraid_. “My uncle was wrong. He deserves… action taken against him,” Zuko whispered, his voice soft to hide what would crack in it. Zuko would always love his uncle, and maybe that made him weak. He was furious at the man, though. Iroh betrayed his entire family. 

“Please… just— if there’s any way not to execute him, Kat, I– I know he… but I can’t just– … if there’s  _any_  way?”

* * *

“Do you think I’m so cruel that I’d execute someone you love?” Katara kept a steady hold on her voice, despite the cold irritation slipping into her veins. 

This was Zuko’s uncle, her husband’s own flesh and blood, and her thought her so black-hearted that she’d execute him? His crime was great, a direct breach of the treaty  _and_ a slight against her family, but Katara wasn’t a monster. 

She sat up, pulling away from him with stiff, sharp movements. “Iroh won’t die for this,” she said firmly. “He’ll lose his place on the throne, and should he refuse to step down, I will not withhold force, but you can rest assured he will keep his life.” 

* * *

A sigh of deep relief left Zuko’s lungs, but he quickly sat up when Katara pulled away from him. He looked at her worriedly and shook his head, “No, no, Kat– that’s not–” Zuko began, cutting himself off with a sharp intake of breath. 

“I didn’t know if you could spare him. I know your country has to come first. I know that,” Zuko told her. “You already spared Azula, and Agni, she… she killed your dad,” Zuko murmured. He shook his head in disbelief as tears formed in his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry,” Zuko muttered, swallowing thickly from guilt, glancing away. 

Zuko pressed his fingers to his nose, then combing it up into his free-fallen hair. “If you hadn’t married me, none of this would have happened,” whispered Zuko. “And… I’m sorry they’re so cruel,” muttered Zuko, shaking his head in disapproval of his flesh and blood. His great grandfather lead a genocide, his grandfather attempted to murder him, His mother abandoned him, his father abused him and threw him away like he was worthless filth, his sister tormented him gleefully for years, his uncle sent him away like property- then betrayed Zuko’s family, and Lu Ten had run off with another woman, betraying his own wife. They were awful. 

“You’re… so kind, my love,” Zuko said thoughtfully, slowly turning his head to meet her gaze with a warm, appreciative, but hurt sincerity in his own. He shook his head, “They may not deserve your mercy, but  _I_ will always treasure it.”

* * *

“I can spare whoever I like, honestly.” A wry smile curved her lips, verging on playful as she softened again, and buried herself in his embrace once again. “That’s my prize for being queen.” Katara’s laugh shook them. “I decide who lives or dies and… Zuko, no matter what they’ve done, your family is safe with me. I won’t harm any of them.”

Threading her fingers with his, Katara relaxed in his arms. It was good to have him back, good to know she’d been wrong— guilt cropped up for doubting him, but she swallowed quickly, afraid a fight would follow if she brought it to light. 

Another fight, or she’d speak and a second later, realize how silly it all was in the first place. It was something Yugoda had pointed out, how Katara’s first instinct when her faith faced a setback was rage. She threw up walls to keep from getting hurt, as if those walls somehow wouldn’t crumble with the pain.

Giving it up for now, she shifted just enough to tug Zuko’s hand down to her belly. “I’ve been contracting off and on these past few days,” she said. “It’s too early, so the healers have been worked desperately to slow it… I’d just glad you’re home. I was afraid I’d do this alone.” 

* * *

Deep relief pulled through Zuko at Katara’s words as they tangled up in each other’s arms once more. It was always so safe and warm, inviting and soothing, in Katara’s embrace. Zuko trailed his fingers up and down her back as she began to speak, moving his hand to her belly. 

“I would never let you do this alone, my love,” Zuko murmured, pressing his lips to her temple. “I’m here, Kat,” Zuko assured her. “I would never, ever leave,” Zuko promised. He’d promise every day if he had to. “I’m so sorry I went off like that in the first place,” Zuko added with a gentle murmur, holding his wife tighter.   


“The baby will be here soon- you should focus on that for now. Then, we can deal with my uncle,” Zuko suggested. “Right now, what matters is delivering our baby, and keeping you, nice and healthy.”

* * *

“It is all I can focus on,” she breathed, relaxing into her husband’s embrace. Now that he’d returned, the sleepless nights were catching up to her, lulling her off into a dreamy, hazed state.

Her lips curled with half a smile. “I thought I was done birthing these little demons,” Katara teased. “Don’t tell Tonraq I said that— your children are spawn; his is a whole new evil.” She felt Zuko rub her belly. His laugh rumbled in his chest, joining hers, before hers morphed into a yawn.

“I’m exhausted,” she announced. “It’s your fault, you know, running off like that. And the kids came into our room earlier than usual every morning… hoping you’d come home at some point in the night.” Katara sighed sleepily. “I tried not to worry them, but children are intuitive. They could tell something was wrong.”

* * *

Zuko held Katara closer, but a frown befell his lips as his fingers drew shapes among her clothed skin. “Kat…” began Zuko gently, glancing at her warily. “You know I’d  **never**   _leave_ ,” Zuko said seriously. “I love you,” stated Zuko. “Nothing could make me go. This is my home: you and the children are my home. I don’t want to be anywhere else or with anybody else but here, with you– all of you.”

Zuko let out a shaky breath, kissing her forehead. He wore a troubled expression as his eyes danced around her office space. Zuko wondered how much she worried herself, hiding out in here and burying herself in work without saying a word. She likely didn’t sleep a wink. That was one of the terrible habits they shared. At least that meant they both understood; they both could empathize with restive, sleepless nights with racing thoughts. 

“The kids… you don’t think they thought I– I left, do you?” asked Zuko. The prince shook his head, “They have to know I’d never abandon them,” Zuko said firmly, clearly upset. Though, as he thought on it, he wanted to say just assuredly Katara would believe the same, through and through. Had he done something to make his family think he was flighty? “I’d never leave. I never will. I’d have to be dead, and even then you couldn’t rid of my haunting spirit.”

* * *

Katara chuckled, despite the heavy topic. “I don’t think the children would take too kindly to a haunting spirit, even if it’s their father. Kya will try to hold an exorcism.” She smiled with the thought of her overly serious daughter, often acting beyond her eight years. 

“But, I can’t say I wouldn’t be happy to have you around.” She tucked her head under Zuko’s chin, somehow thinking she could get closer to him than she already was, wrapped up in his arms.   


Though still playful, her voice carried a melancholy note. “I’d at least make your ghost assure the kids that you still love me,” Katara said. She chewed her lip for a moment, before giving him more. 

“I don’t think Ursa or Iroh really grasped it. They’re more carefree, you know?” She lifted her head, looking at Zuko now. Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair, then Katara threaded through the raven strands and twisted her hand behind his head. “Hakoda was the first to think something was wrong… then, Kya caught his worry, and started pestering me with questions.”   


“They know you love them, they just…” she shrugged, looking away. “They weren’t oblivious to our strain this past year. They thought you left because of me…” Katara cut off before she let on that she thought the same, too; her hidden feelings were evident enough in her tone and she could only imagine what Tonraq told Zuko. “But, with Sokka here now, they’ll realize that couldn’t be further from the truth.” 

* * *

Zuko sat up in worry, looking at his wife in concern. “And, you?” Prompted Zuko, a deep frown set in his face, making the wrinkles that were beginning to form more prominent. “You thought I’d gone, too,” whispered Zuko, upset with himself rather than Katara.

Zuko sighed deeply. “How could you think I would leave? -Leave you? After all we’d been through? And, the children?” Zuko said, somewhat hurt, but more so, disappointed in himself. “Agni, Kat,” Zuko spoke, shaking his head in firm denial as he gave her leg a reassuring and affectionate squeeze. “ ** _Never_**.”

“I love you. Okay? I love you,” Zuko told her with sturdy purpose. “I love our babies,” Zuko murmured, a small smile coming to his lips. “There’s no mountain in the universe high enough that’s not worth climbing for you,” Zuko promised, pulling her into his arms again.

He felt as though he’d come up short as a father and a husband. His biggest fear as a kid was being left- as his parents did to him, his uncle. The last thing Zuko wanted was for the people he loved to think he would do such a thing to them.

“I need to go talk to them…” Zuko spoke, pulling back down onto the sofa as he stroked her hair. “What did they ask? Did— Did… they thought I wouldn’t come home? I feel… terrible they’d think that…” Zuko mused aloud, though his voice was soft as he held Katara closer. “Did you tell them I would? I have to make sure they know I always will,” Zuko spoke, pressing his wife’s head to his chest. “I need  _you_  to know I always will.”


	75. Chapter 75

“How could I think you’d leave?” She looked at him with mild disbelief, her features scrunched up. “Zuko, I’m pregnant with another man’s child. And if that’s not reason enough, he’s someone I used to love. I would’ve married him. It’d be him curled around me on my couch and the precious silence threatened by four children bursting in at any second and—”

Katara cut off with a hiss. She knew what she said had hurt him, but it was the truth. It was so easy, knowing how Zuko’s mind worked, knowing he’d internalized these same thoughts, to imagine him leaving her. She could picture it so clearly, after the year they’d been through, already worked out what she’d tell the children… assuming he left them, too.

Realistically, Katara knew she deserved the heartache  _and_ loneliness. Zuko was always the better parent anyway, the favored parent. He was the one they ran to for comfort over scrapes and bruises. They only came to her when they wanted it healed.

And she could blame her work, but the truth was she was a poor mother and a worse wife and that’s why it was so easy to think he’d grown fed up and gone.

Of course, it felt silly now, knowing what he’d really been up to, but that didn’t erase the weeks of doubt she’d battled down and still failed to hide from everyone around her.

“It’s not hard to imagine it,” Katara said, trying to settle again. She felt uneasy, shaken. “After all we’ve faced… I’m shocked you still want me some days. But… the kids- the kids are fine. They’re resilient, you know that. They have their dad back, as I told them a thousand times over they would.”

* * *

Her words cinched around his heart like a snare. Zuko sat up again, his face falling into a grimace. “Oh, well, I’m so glad to know that I’m so replaceable and that our life together is so interchangeable,” Zuko replied in a growl, letting out a deep sigh before putting his palm to his forehead, shaking his head. 

“Kat… if I was going to go, I would have left when things were at their worst,” Zuko stated. “But, that’s… that’s not who I  _am_. I don’t leave the people I love,” Zuko said insistently. “Going off the track records, it’s usually the other way around,” Zuko muttered. “My uncle, my mother, my father, my sister, my cousin…”

He looked at his wife, then biting his lip, Zuko gave Katara a tender smile, “Not you, though,” Zuko whispered. “You’ve always been at my side,” Zuko said, “I need you to know– and to believe, and to  _trust_  that I’m  _always_  going to be at yours,” Zuko spoke with profound sincerity. 

“I love you and I love our babies. I don’t want to leave you or them… not now, not ever. I never would– I couldn’t,” Zuko told her. “Nothing else matters. You and the children are the only thing, at the end of the day, that really matters to me. I hope you know that. I need you to know that. I _need_  the kids to know that. I would give anything and everything for you and our children,” Zuko emphasized, his voice shaking on the trembled crack in his throat.   


“Any position, any price– my life,” Zuko tried to explain, “None of it is worth a thing, doesn’t hold a flicker of a flame on a candle to you and our children: my family. You’re my everything. There is nothing in this world that could make me give up on you. Without you… without our children… I don’t have anything that matters. You matter. Our children matter. Our family matters. And, to me… that’s all that matters.”   


“I would never, ever,  _leave_  you, especially on a whim… no, no, no– never. Katara, I  _love_  you. Agni, I am in love with you, Kat. I love you… so,  _so_  much” 

* * *

She was quiet, simply listening to him as tears filled her eyes then spilled over, wetting her cheeks. When they gathered at the point of her chin, Katara nodded, sending them into her lap where they splattered.   


“Okay,” she whispered softly, her voice full of evident relief. “I believe you. I do.” Katara nodded again, then shook her head to ward off a sob, buried her face in his neck. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I love you, Zuko, I really do. You’re the best thing that’s come into my life, and I can’t help but panic at the thought of losing you… I’m sorry. Really.” 

Lifting her head, Katara smeared the backs of her hands across her cheeks, wiping her face clean. Her damp fingers smoothed her hair, then moved into his, combing the long strands back over his shoulders before Katara cupped his chin. 

“Thank you for everything,” she said, pecking him softly. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for the things you’ve done for me.”   


* * *

Zuko held Katara close in his arms, pressing his scarred cheek to hers in a loving embrace. Zuko moved his hand from her back to her head affectionately, wanting her close as he rocked her in his arms, trying to assuage her. 

The prince leaned in and kissed Katara’s lips again, brushing his nose against hers. “You already repay me… every,  _single_  day, my love,” Zuko whispered, smiling as he leaned his forehead against hers. Zuko cupped Katara’s cheeks, pulling her into a kiss. 

He smiled wider, growing askew, as he fell back against the sofa with her. Zuko laughed lightly, his elbows propping him up above the chieftess. “I  _missed_  you.”

* * *

Settling with a smile, Katara slid her hands down to his chest. Her mood lightened quickly with the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips, and her soul quieted with his soft confessions. 

“Did you?” she asked, her smile turning to a tease. All she wanted now was him, his playful grin and cheeky laugh, his teeth scraping her neck like that was somehow a punishment. And, the best way to get it was messing with him; riling up her husband was far too easy. 

“Sokka mentioned something about unresolved tension… so I’m quite curious—” Katara kept a question in her voice, feigning ignorance despite her brother’s shoulder-shaking laughter over the events of their journey. “Did you  _really_ miss me? Or are thoughts of me so easily replaced by muscular water tribesmen?” 

* * *

“Wh—what?!” Exclaimed Zuko, his cheeks reddening to the color of the cardinal feather on her pen. Zuko’s mouth hunt agape, flopping about like a fish flailing out of water. The blush ran up to his ear, making the burnt one match it’s usually-pale counterpart.

“Katara, don’t— don’t be ridiculous…” Zuko mumbled, then rolling his eyes. “Tonraq is— and Sokka loves to join in on his—“ Zuko rambled his scattered alibis. “Listen, I might not want to kill him anymore, but that doesn’t mean… ugh!” Zuko growled, pouting as he lied back down.

“I missed you,” persisted Zuko, smirking as his skin regained its color and he pressed a kiss to her lips. “Very,” began Zuko, kissing her again, “very,” he spoke against her lips, stealing another kiss, “very much”.

* * *

Katara laughed. She loved the color on his cheeks and the light in his eyes when he huffed. She’d missed it, and him. “Well, I’m glad,” she quipped, kissing him back with equal fervor. “You were much desired here… by me and the kids.” 

Her eyes crinkled with a smile. She bumped her nose against his, chuckling under her breath. 

“Maybe a touch more by them…” she admitted. “I was quite upset with you… making me sleep alone while you were off gallivanting around the world with your new boyfriends.” 

A sigh escaped her, a happy, sleepy sigh. “Thank you so much, Zuko, for bringing Sokka back. If you were anyone else, if you even  _slightly_ less stubborn, I wouldn’t have him.”  

* * *

Zuko rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face, “Well, you know, I needed two of the Water Tribe’s finest to even come close to filling the void of  _ **the**_  Water Tribe’s finest,” Zuko retorted playfully, then leaving a lingering, affectionate kiss on her forehead. 

“I had to bring him home to you,” Zuko spoke, “There was something in me insisting he was still alive out there, and… I couldn’t let that go,” explained Zuko, pulling up to meet his wife’s gaze again tenderly. “I am sorry I hurt you, Katara,” Zuko told her, shaking his head. “That was the _last_  thing I wanted… but I knew if Sokka came home that would be worth… everything,” Zuko explained, giving Katara’s cheek a tender kiss.

His hand moved over her swelling baby bump, running soothing circles over her belly. “How busy are you tomorrow, my love? What if we had a special dinner prepared– Sokka’s favorite– tomorrow… to welcome him home? If you think that wouldn’t be too much?”

* * *

“I planned to take a bit of time off for him,” she said. “I think the Council can manage things for a week… plus, I’m supposed to be resting.” Katara gave him a nervous smile, putting her hands over his on her belly. “Something’s… wrong or… I’m not sure, but the midwife has been worried.” 

She sighed and shrugged, as if to chalk it up to stress, but doubt planted in her mind. Iroh had come early, only by a few weeks, but still… early. She was close to that date— and dealing with sporadic contractions already. The midwife had the audacity to call it  _‘old age,_ ’ which thrown Katara into a fuss, even if she couldn’t deny there was a hint of truth to it. 

Iroh was supposed to be her last; not only because she thought her family whole, but because of the hard pregnancy and rough birth. 

But, she wasn’t in any mood to talk about it. Zuko would only have a myriad of questions she didn’t have answers to. Katara pushed his hands off and got to her feet, massaging her lower back as she did. 

“After the baby comes, I want to take Sokka to the coast, too… and I suppose Tonraq should go with us. I don’t want him to feel he’s missing anything, if that’s alright with you.” She tilted her head, curious. “Does Sokka know— about  _everything?”_

* * *

Zuko knew she didn’t want to discuss it. He knew his wife well, and he knew that look meant she didn’t want any more on it, but Zuko was concerned. Zuko sat up on the little sofa, and put his hand to her back as he noticed her pulling there. He’d learned from her pregnancies that her back always ached, and it really did when she pulled at it.

The prince warmed his hand through his firebending as he placed it on her lower back, massaging at the knots there while they spoke. “Just… please, Kat, promise me if something is wrong that you’ll talk to me, okay? Please don’t keep it from me,” Zuko asked, his hand gently continuing its work at her aches. 

“Tonraq told Sokka,” replied Zuko, “The two seemed close…  _really_  close by the time we were home,” Zuko said, then smirking a little as he remembered them snuggled up together on Druk. “But, Sokka was talking to me, and he knew, so Tonraq must’ve explained it to him,” Zuko said gently. “He told me the same would have been expected of him,” explained Zuko, his fingers running over her back tenderly.

“I think Sokka could use that trip… with all of us, and… with Tonraq,” Zuko agreed, though it would take some getting used to for sure. “You deserve the trip, too… you deserve some rest more than anyone I know, Kat.” 


	76. Chapter 76

“It would be nice,” Katara smiled. “He may want to see Ember Island someday, but… for now, I can’t imagine Sokka wants to visit the Fire Nation any time in the near future.” She snickered, giving Zuko a teasing look. “It’s hot as hell there, so I can’t blame him.” 

A sigh came and went, partly out of relief at Zuko’s fingers on her back, and partly from the weight of worry of stress. So much seemed to be falling on her shoulders, from the coming baby to the proper way to deal with Lord Iroh. Plus, with Sokka home, the structure of her own government would need to change, recognizing him as the prince.

She pulled away from Zuko and returned to her desk, pulling a blank piece of parchment in front of her and dabbing a quill pen of extra ink. “Do you think your uncle will respond well to a letter? I won’t write anything threatening— yet. But, the situation obviously needs to be discussed.” 

* * *

Zuko sighed as he watched his wife drift to her desk, her words weighing heavily on him. He couldn’t imagine the weight they pulled on Katara. The prince leaned back on the sofa, settling his arm over the armrest, propping his elbow to lean his head into his hand. He licked his lips, then pursing them. This would be a very difficult situation– for everyone involved. 

“I mean… you have every right to be enraged, Kat,” Zuko told her, shaking his head in disdain for his uncle’s actions. “I’m enraged,” he added, scoffing. “I’m so fucking—” he cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He still couldn’t believe what his uncle had done– for all these years.   


Zuko’s hand fell back into his lap, looking back at Katara, making his eyes soften. “I think a letter is a good way to start… I hope he understands the gravity of things- of what he has done, and its implications beyond our personal feelings. The implications on the treaty are also… bad,” Zuko said succinctly. “I think that’s good, to start with a letter… see if he recognizes what he’s done– a chance,” Zuko explained. 

“He’s honestly lucky you’re extending that,” Zuko said in plain honesty. He knew if he’d been anyone else, he’d pay steeper. “I still… I cannot believe he’d do it. I cannot believe he did that to Sokka– to you… to us, our children… our family–  _ **his**_  family. I can’t.”

* * *

“Were we ever really family to him?” Katara asked plainly. “He hardly visits; we go to him. He remembers the children’s birthdays, sends a gift for yours… but it’s obvious when we go to celebrate Lu Ten’s or his son’s who Iroh’s favored family is.” 

Her voice was cutting, but she felt what she said was honest. She, at least, laid out how she felt for Zuko to see.   


“And now we know he’s harbored my brother for over a decade, kept a prisoner against the terms of the treaty and treated him terribly.” Her eyes hardened like ice. “If I had my way? Iroh would already be dead— but my father didn’t sacrifice everything for me to provoke a second war, so I’ll reign my temper in and search for a diplomatic solution.” 

Katara looked down at the parchment, her quill already moving through the characters that spelled Iroh’s name. “But, no— he’s _ **not**_  family. He’s a man in a castle. _And castles fall.”_

* * *

Zuko knew those things were true, but it still hurt to hear it spoken aloud. The prince sighed as his eyes roamed over her desk, grabbing a piece of legislation off her stack as she began drafting the letter, which could become the shot heard ‘round the world. 

“I know,” murmured Zuko, another deep breath falling from his lips as he skimmed the parchment and he scribbled a forgery of her name as he had now for so many years. “I knew it twelve years ago when he came in to tell me I was being married off here, even when he thought I’d be treated cruelly, I was still to be the treaty pawn… Lu Ten though? He was staying right put at home,” Zuko muttered, his index finger running down the tattered edge of the document. 

“I’ll always love my uncle. That’ll never change,” admitted Zuko, “But, I’m  _ashamed_ … I’m ashamed of my uncle… my family– my country,” rambled Zuko, then tapping the feather pen against the desk in thought, distracted from the motion before him. “I’m sorry we’ve hurt you…” Zuko told his wife quietly in deep thought, then he shook his head, “And, I’m  _furious_.”  


Zuko thought of Sokka and all the pain he was in, and Katara and Hakoda and Kanna and the horrible grief they suffered. Sokka should have been home for over a decade now. Only because of his uncle’s selfishness and ruthless streak had all of Katara’s family hurt. He wished he could take it away. 

He wanted to write a letter of his own, telling off his uncle with a stroke of the pen. “I’d like to give the old man a piece of my own mind, but if you can keep your temper, I suppose I ought to, too,” Zuko huffed. But, he was livid on behalf of Katara, on behalf of his children, and on his own accord. Iroh had hurt them all so effortlessly and so carelessly. 

Zuko’s eyes narrowed in growing anger that boiled in his chest. The prince was angered at his own maltreatment, but worse, he was enraged to think his own wife and kids disregarded. They had not deserved a second of it. “Maybe I should deliver the letter. Maybe I should let my dear old uncle know that I know precisely the fucking game he’s playing and that  _neither_  of us are having it,” Zuko growled through his teeth, his temper tested. 

Zuko smacked down the pen in irritation, rubbing his forehead before a playful smirk decorated his lips, “– _Diplomatically_ , of course. I am the new head of council, after all.”

* * *

“I know you’ll find the best solution, love. You’re very good at diplomacy, far better than me,” she chuckled quietly, putting a hand on his arm until Zuko calmed, “which is why I put you on the Council. But, if by delivering, you mean  _leaving_ … absolutely not.” 

Katara shot him a look over her desk, her lips pinched in seriousness. “I’m weeks from my due date, Zuko. You’re not going anywhere.” 

Then, her mouth quirked slightly. “In fact, you’re grounded. You can talk to Hakoda about what that means… given he’s in trouble for staying out too late last week. No more misadventures for you, and certainly not with my brother and his— what? Are they boyfriends, now?” 

She rolled her eyes, playfully shaking her head as she began the letter to Iroh. “I guess Tonraq moves on quickly,  _hm?_  Last I heard, he was hitting on  _you_. And before that it was me… maybe I should enlist him in a dating service, but it seems he has a taste for royalty.” 

* * *

The prince shook his head with a warm smile on his face, then gently putting down the quill pen. Zuko smirked as he walked behind his wife, wrapping his arms tenderly around her shoulders as he rested his head on her shoulder before pecking Katara’s cheek teasingly and affectionately. 

“I mean, once there’s you, there’s nowhere to go but down,” jested Zuko, nuzzling her cheek tenderly. “The two of them really got on though, I bet you we’ll be hearing wedding bells in no time,” Zuko joked, but really, the sparks between the two were undeniable.   


Zuko lifted his head, massaging her shoulders as he spoke more seriously. “I won’t go, Kat, I promise. I promised I’d be here when our babies are born– I meant all of them– always.”

* * *

“As long as they don’t go running off together, I suppose there won’t be a problem. This baby is yours  _and_ his… I want you both close by for the birth.” She tilted her head with a humored smile. “And Sokka’s never leaving my sight again, not so soon after I won him back.” 

Katara placed a hand over Zuko’s, then returned to her work, finishing up her letter to his uncle and stamping her seal on the folded parchment. 

Her words were concise and diplomatic, but covered the breadth of her complaints: the first being Sokka’s extended imprisonment, and the second being the continued imprisonment of others at the Boiling Rock. From what she gleaned from her brother and Tonraq, it wasn’t a humane place, in the least. Katara didn’t press the man, however. She only asked for an audience after her baby’s birth, a chance to sit down and make amends for her grievances. 

After handing it off to a mail courier, Katara led Zuko from her office and locked it up, rubbing her lower back wearily. “I’m going to visit Sokka before I come to bed… but I’ll be along shortly, I promise.” 

* * *

Zuko cupped Katara’s cheeks, his thumb gently running over her skin as he gave her a tender smile as his thumb brushed over her lips affectionately. He missed the sight of her pretty face, and seeing such light in those eyes he so dearly loved. There was the weight from the stress, he knew, but there was so much joy; Sokka was home, alive from the dead. 

The prince tenderly pulled her head close and pressed a lingering kiss to Katara’s forehead as his hands ran down her arms, giving her a squeeze. “All right, I’m sure he wants to tell you goodnight, too,” Zuko agreed. “I’m going to tuck the children in,” whispered Zuko, then he smirked, “You might beat me to bed, Ursa loves to rope me into a series of bedtime stories,” he said with a laugh before letting go of her to tend to their children. 

/////

It’s late in the morning when Zuko wakes up, a rarity for the firebending prince. Even his children hadn’t come rummaging into their bedroom. It’s even rarer that when his eyes fluttered open, Katara was still in bed too. Zuko didn’t question it though, and decided to savor in the good thing. 

The sun was peaking through the curtains, glistening off the snow and reflecting on Katara’s face while she slept. Despite the triteness of it, Zuko smiled softly, reveling in how lucky he is, in how blessed his life is as a surge of love hits him. The prince put a soft hand on his wife’s very swollen belly, feeling the small flutter of movements of the baby, making him smile. Zuko’s heart melted every time, just as it does when Katara’s eyes, too, flutter open.

“ _Good morning_.”

* * *

“Good morning to you, my darling.” 

She stretched lazy, rolling to her back with a grumble, then returning to her side when her belly made it impossible to breathe. Katara huffed through her nose, following the little flutters the baby made in the wake of Zuko’s fingers. 

“…and, good morning to this one,” she smiled playfully, amusing shining in her eyes. “Think she’ll make an appearance soon?” Katara asked her husband. “She better. I feel I might explode.”   


There was still time, however. She reminded herself of that. A few weeks to go before the baby was due, and Katara knew it was best to carry to term. A weary sigh accompanied her movements; planting her feet on the cool floor, she slipped from bed and dressed in her favorite robe of Zuko’s. The smell of breakfast drifted beneath the door into their bedroom. 

“The kids have probably already eaten.” Katara wiggled her brows at Zuko. “We could have the dining room all to ourselves… peace and quiet and  _a date?”_

* * *

Zuko leaned over and gave Katara’s belly a quick kiss before sitting up to stretch. It was far past the time at which he usually awoke. It felt nice to sleep in, and let things go if only for a morning. Sokka was home from the presumed dead, that was reason enough to take it easy a bit, wasn’t it? 

“A breakfast date sounds perfect,” Zuko replied with a quiet laugh before heading downstairs, chasing the permeating scent of fresh eggs and bacon.   


Tea and coffee were already set out and there was more than enough food to go around. That was always a nice perk of working in the palace. Zuko thanked the chef before carrying their plates into their private, family dining room, and setting out the plates at the table for them. 

“I wonder if Sokka is up yet,” remarked Zuko, taking a sip of his tea. The blend reminded him of his uncle, and Zuko pushed the dark thought. “I see they have his favorite pancakes going in the kitchen. Maybe _he and Tonraq_  are off on a breakfast date of their own already.”


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theadamantdaughter.tumblr.com was deleted by tumblr's lack of competence; new blog is tatkresiwok.tumblr.com

“He told me he’d be sleeping in… which is perfectly fair, considering I kept him up ‘til all hours of the night,” Katara smiled fondly, thinking of how full the castle would feel now, with only the addition of her brother.   


That was all it took, really; her family, whole and complete. She’d like having Tonraq around as well… if the budding relationship blossomed into something. His child would grow up knowing him, and Sokka would… Well, it was hard for her to tell where it was going, or what it meant, but she was happy Sokka had someone to share the harder nights with, even if it took her by surprise.

Settling in for breakfast, Katara ate quickly, thinking she could catch up on her work throughout the morning, grab Sokka after lunch to show him a few projects and such, then close out her afternoon for time spent with him. 

However, she wasn’t three paces from the dining room when she faltered, a particularly strong contraction stealing her breath away. She placed her hand on the wall, exhaling sharply—

_“Shit.”_

Katara sensed Zuko come up behind her, his face a picture of concern when she looked over her shoulder. Something wet slid down her legs. “Can- can you get them? Ton and— and the midwife? I think my water broke.” 

* * *

Zuko was at Katara’s side in an instant as she stumbled, clinging to the wall. “Kat!” exclaimed Zuko, though he had a good idea of what was the matter. As soon as she confirmed it, Zuko raced off with the promise of returning quickly. 

The midwife made fast work to set up the infirmary for Katara to deliver in. Kanna and other trusted tribeswomen were there, too, awaiting Katara as Tonraq and other healers stood outside the door. 

The prince lead his wife patiently to the now-familiar room, trying to help ease her pain as he did. Though, he knew the other healers would be tenfold as helpful. 

Zuko buried it deep, but he was worried. He remembered Katara mentioning the physician’s concern, and Katara discussing how this pregnancy had been harder than the others. Katara needed most now, however, was his strong and firm support– and he would give that to her, every step, as he did for every child before. 

Zuko rubbed Katara’s back in tender affection with a whispered word of encouragement, “I’ll be right outside the door– the whole time– if you need me. I’m right here, just say the word– okay? For anything… even a stupid joke,” Zuko assured her, meeting the healers’ gazes. “I love you, Kat.”

* * *

Katara relaxed at Zuko’s words, allowing him to fluff her pillows before she laid back, prone to the midwife’s ministrations and a flurry of activity around the room. 

“I love you, Zuko. Go.” She shooed him slightly, knowing he wanted to linger as long as he could. But the morning—the day—she was facing wasn’t any place for a man; she wanted her grandmother, her healers, and her privacy. “I’ll be fine. Go.” 

“I’ll come for you when the baby arrives,” Kanna assured him, delicately brushing Zuko’s arm as she ushered him out. “Your wife is strong, my Prince. Don’t fret.”   


////

When Kanna slipped into the sitting area many hours later to greet the men, it wasn’t with a joyous announcement. Her face was solemn, her eyes heavy and hands red with blood. She stood there quietly for a moment, only speaking when Zuko rose to his feet, and Tonraq stepped towards her.

“What is it?” He pressed. “What happened?”   


The elderly woman swallowed. “I- I’m sorry. She—” Her eyes flit back towards the room, where choked cries could be heard. “Prince Zuko, Councilman Tonraq… the Chieftess and her newborn son are alive, but we do not know if either will survive the night. We are doing what we can, but you- you may want to see them, say your goodbyes.”

* * *

Zuko had been this three times before- four, if you counted both the twins’ births. It got easier, but not by much. Zuko always worried, and he paced the floor nervously as he waited outside that familiar infirmary door. His head was crammed with a million worries, and occasionally he’d meet the gaze of the councilman and they’d nod at each other. 

Time didn’t seem to move much at all. Servants would come to him with tea, and Zuko pestered the midwives who popped out every so often. The veteran midwives were used to Zuko’s prodding and the incessant noise of his steps back-and-forth until the floors and soles of his shoes were worn thin. 

The only sound was that of the creaking floorboards in tempo with the prince’s steps for so long, until a heavy drag of the door had Zuko snap his head up to meet Kanna’s gaze. 

Her face was that of dread, and a feeling of suffocation gripped Zuko’s chest like a vice. The prince’s eyes darted back and forth on the old woman as the second wait to hear what she had to say felt both crash-course and as slow as dripping honey. 

But, the elderly woman’s words felt like a whirlwind fist to the gut from out of the blue. Zuko’s hands fell to his sides, and a small scoff of utter disbelief and sheer denial painted Zuko’s pallor skin. He shook his head slowly, continuing to do so as he stepped backwards, almost falling back as his head shook more quickly in refusal of the words that graced the shattered, old woman’s lips. 

“What do you know?” Zuko snapped cruelly, not meaning to wound the woman, but grief ensnared him. “I want the best healers. This is ridiculous!” Zuko hissed. Tears pooled in Zuko’s eyes and he could hardly catch his breath at the escalating panic of his racing heart and his smothering lungs.   


Zuko paced to the window, his hand running back through his hair as he clutched it to his scalp tightly, trying to collect himself so he could do something– save her– move– act! “Kanna, your methods are old and– and you’re… you’re– it’s outdated! And– fuck! Fuck all of you! You pull me out now! Things went wrong, and you– you said you’d tell me! I needed to be in there this whole _fucking time_!” Zuko snapped, whipping around quickly, then jetting his chin towards Tonraq. “You!” Zuko spoke briskly. “Kat taught you. She taught you everything all those nights, and you are not– you will not let her–” Zuko stopped himself short. The words couldn’t even form on her tongue before he shook his head free of the unbearable thought. 

Zuko took a deep and shaking breath, pushing the crook of his inner elbow to his damp eyes to compose himself. He would not go in there a mess. Katara  _needed_  him. 

Stubbornly, but with a faux-calm, Zuko pushed past the curtain, and that almost put his moments of consolation out the window. She looked frail, a pallor picture of the woman who lied down in that bed mere hours ago. The baby fared no better, held close in his wife’s arms. 

Zuko fell to his knees before her bed, admiring the beautiful child in Katara’s arms. The prince gave his wife a smile, cupping her cheek. “ _Hey_ ,” Zuko murmured, his thumb affectionately stroking her smooth skin. “You did great,” Zuko whispered soothingly, pursing his lips as his eyes met those beautiful, blue ones he loved so much. “Little Sokka is  _perfect_ \- she’s beautiful, like her mama,” Zuko spoke gently, tenderly stroking the infant’s cheek with his index finger. 

He swallowed thickly, chewing his lower lip as he tried to hide the tremor in his hands. “Everything is going to be okay, my love,” Zuko promised, quickly batting his eyelashes to whisk away oncoming tears while he stroked his wife’s cheek. “Our babies will be in soon to meet their sister,” Zuko muttered, tucking a lock of hair behind Katara’s ear. “Ton– Tonraq’s gonna come in and– and he’s gonna heal you– you and Sokka, okay? You’re both going to be just fine. It’s going to be just fine. I love you. I love you  _so much_ , it’s going to be okay,” Zuko stammered, his voice breaking as he looked at the beads of sweat on Katara’s forehead and the dullness in her usually emboldened eyes. 

“And… for the record, I’ll have it down now that you were right, my love. For the fifth time, you were right… a girl. She’s a beautiful girl, and she’s going to be the  _best_  chief.”

* * *

No.

_No._  She was wrong this time. 

She tried to speak, tell him that, for once, she’d been wrong— like this whole, cursed situation, but a delirious croak was all that came. Another shudder of pain. A splutter, and blood, and the world turning sideways when the midwife took the silent, swaddled boy away and Zuko’s face faded. 

Don’t name him, yet. Katara’s mind honed on that one particular thought. _Don’t name him, yet. If he dies… if I don’t…_

Agony tore through her. She heard another voice. A man. Blue eyes entered her field of vision, and that— that  _torturous_ tug beneath her skin. Bloodbending. Someone was saving her. Katara wondered if she was deserving of it.

////

“You’re not to be in here!” A woman barked at him, after Tonraq had barged into the birthing room after the Prince. “You’re not allow—”   


“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, permitting her a moment to collect herself, to recognize that the Chief’s life was at stake and that of the Water Tribe’s heir, as well. She didn’t seem to grasp it, seemed more perturbed with the men in the room, and Tonraq jabbed a hand at the door before stalking towards the bed.   


Katara was choking on blood. Zuko was in the way, sobbing. The baby— _the boy,_  one healer murmured. His son. 

Any other time, he would’ve poked at Katara for being wrong. But, he watched Kanna take the baby away, leaving space for him to work on his queen, while the other healers hovered around her, murmuring a dozen solutions. Something… fierce, protective, _instinctive_  reared it’s loud and angry head.

“Take him.” Tonraq nodded at Zuko. “Take the boy and keep him close to your chest. Keep him warm. He’ll make it. They’ll both make. They’ll both…” 

A hard swallow cut him off. He could only focus on Katara, for the time being. A son needed his mother and a mother needed to be with her son; the damage inflicted by the cesarean, the breech birth, as Kanna quietly informed him, was great, but he eventually quelled the bleeding. 

And then the boy; the sweet, perfect, beautiful little boy. Katara was stable for the moment. Tonraq stayed seated by her on the blood-soaked bed, but his hands extended towards Zuko. 

“Can I hold him? Please. Let me hold him.” 

* * *

He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose the baby, either. It felt distant, and he felt like he was on the outside looking in. It all crumbled on him as he saw the lack of color in her skin, and the blood that coated her skin and dribbled down her chin. Zuko wished he could bend water, then he could help- he could save her, like she’d saved his life so many years ago. 

Snippets of their life flashed before him, and the mere thought of a life without her was too much to bear for even a split second. Zuko refused to lose Katara. He refused to lose the baby– the little boy. 

Tears got the best of him, despite his previous brave face. He wished he knew better how to swallow them down, but Kanna had told him that his wife was going to die. 

Zuko, almost in a panicked-grief-stricken haze, turned to Tonraq. His hands were trembling, and he felt like each breath was laborious. He hated seeing Katara in so much pain. There was little he could do to comfort her, but he’d give anything to shoulder it for her. But, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything but stand there. 

But, Tonraq– Katara had taught him all the techniques she knew in healing. Hope swarmed the chief’s husband and Zuko turned to the man he once loathed so fiercely with desperation in his eyes. “Tonraq–” Zuko spoke desperately, his lip trembling, “Tonraq… my wife, please… you have to save Kat, please– please… please,” begged Zuko, wiping his face clean as Tonraq handed him the infant. 

He was a perfect, little baby, and under any other circumstances Zuko would be coddling him and fussing over him like crazy.  But, Zuko had to focus on keeping the baby warm. He used his bending to warm his skin, and gently cradled the baby close, snuggling him in his arms. Zuko loved children, and had been naturally paternal since Kya’s birth. 

He switched is weight from side to side to soothe the child, and distract from the panicked tapping in his foot. His eyes didn’t leave Katara as Tonraq used his bending on her, and Zuko prayed to the Spirits, bargaining desperately with them for Katara’s life. He’d give anything and everything; she was his entire world, his heart and soul, his closest friend, life partner, and mother of his children. Zuko couldn’t go on if he lost her. Katara deserved her life– a happy and healthy one– more than anyone on earth. She didn’t deserve any of this pain. 

Eventually, Tonraq moved, and the blood quelled. He reached for the infant, and Zuko tenderly, but blankly, kissed the baby’s head before handing him to his biological father. The baby was all right– thank Agni, their baby was okay; he was stable.

 Almost in a trance, Zuko walked to Katara’s bedside, collapsing to his knees at her bedside. Zuko took his wife’s hand gingerly, and pressed it to his cheek with love as he fought tears. “It’s _all right_ ,” Zuko softly promised. “Tonraq used everything you showed him. He learned from the best– and the wisest, who showed him everything,” Zuko murmured, pursing his lips tightly as stubborn, lingering tears fell free.  “The baby is okay. Don’t worry– he’s okay. I warmed him up, and Tonraq’s got him,” Zuko said soothingly as he stroked her skin, then afforded her the quiet as he heard the racing of his own heart. 

Zuko looked at Tonraq, chewing his lip, “Ton,” hissed Zuko desperately. “Are they okay? –They’re going to be okay? Right? They have to be. They– Kat and the baby… they’re fine? Tell me they’re fine.  _ **Please**_.”


End file.
